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RASSELAS 

By   SAMUEL  JOHNSON 


For  a  model  of  grave  and  majestic  language,  "  Rasselas  "  will 
claim  perhaps  the  first  place  in  English  composition ;  nor  do  I 
recollect  any  work  of  the  kind  that  contains  so  many  profound 
reflections,  and,  with  occasional  reserve  as  to  their  generality,  so 
many  true  ones.  —  Leigh  Hunt. 


Rasselas 


PRINCE    OF    ABYSSINIA 


BY 


SAMUEL    JOHNSON,    LL.D. 


Neto  American  Isfcitton 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG   AND   COMPANY 
1889 


/ : 


PREFATORY    NOTE. 
[Abridged  from  Boswell's  Johnson.] 


"  Soon  after  this  event,1  Johnson  wrote  his  '  Ras- 
selas.'2  The  late  Mr.  Strahan,  the  printer,  told  me 
that  Johnson  wrote  it  that  with  the  profits  he  might 
defray  the  expense  of  his  mother's  funeral,  and  pay 
some  little  debts  which  she  had  left.  He  told  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  that  he  composed  it  in  the  evenings 
of  one  week,  sent  it  to  the  press  in  portions  as  it  was 
written,  and  had  never  since  read  it  over. 3  Mr. 
Strahan,  Mr.  Johnston,  and  Mr.  Dodsley  purchased 
it  for  a  hundred  pounds,  but  afterwards  paid  him 
twenty-five  pounds  more,  when  it  came  to  a  second 
edition.  .  .  .  We  cannot  but  wonder  at  the  very  low 
price  which  he  was  content  to  receive  for  this  admir- 
able performance,  which,  though  he  had  written  noth- 
ing else,  would  have  rendered  his  name  immortal  in 
the  world  of  literature.  None  of  his  writings  has 
been  so  extensively  diffused  over  Europe  ;  for  it  has 

1  The  death  of  Johnson's  mother,  which  occurred  in  January, 
'759- 

2  "  Rasselas  "  was  published  in  March  or  April,  1759. 

3  Just  before  his  death,  however,  he  one  day  chanced  to  see  the 
book  in  Boswell's  hands,  and  "seized  upon  it  with  avidity." 


213725 


4  PREFATORY  NOTE. 

been  translated  into  most,  if  not  all,  of  the  modern 
languages. 

1 1  "  This  tale,  with  all  the  charms  of  Oriental  imagery, 
and  all  the  force  and  beauty  of  which  the  English 
language  is  capable^ leads  us  through  the  most  impor- 
tant scenes  of  human  life,  and  shows  us  that  this 
stage  of  our  being  is  full  of  '  vanity  and  vexation  of 
spirit.'  To  those  who  look  no  further  than  the 
present  life,  or  who  maintain  that  human  nature  has 
not  fallen  from  the  state  in  which  it  was  created,  the 
instruction  of  this  sublime  story  will  be  of  no  avail. 
But  they  who  think  justly  and  feel  with  sensibility 
will  listen  with  eagerness  and  admiration  to  its  truth 
and  wisdom.  Voltaire's  '  Candide,'  written  to  refute 
the  system  of  Optimism,  which  it  has  accomplished 
with  brilliant  success,  is  wonderfully  similar  in  its 
plan  and  conduct  to  Johnson's  '  Rasselas;'  insomuch, 
that  I  have  heard  Johnson  say  that  if  they  had  not 
been  published  so  closely  one  after  the  other  that 
there  was  not  time  for  imitation,  it  would  have  been 
in  vain  to  deny  that  the  scheme  of  that  which  came 
latest  was  taken  from  the  other.  Though  the  propo- 
sition illustrated  by  both  these  works  was  the  same, 
—  namely,  that  in  our  present  state  there  is  more  evil 
than  good, -—the  intention  of  the  writers  was  very 
different.  Voltaire,  I  am  afraid,  meant  only  by  wan- 
ton profaneness  to  obtain  a  sportive  victory  over  reli- 
gion, and  to  discredit  the  belief  of  a  superintending 
Providence  ;  Johnson  meant,  by  showing  the  unsatis- 
factory nature  of  things  temporal,  to  direct  the  hopes 
of  man  to  things  eternal.  '  Rasselas  '  .  .  .  may  be 
considered  as  a  more  enlarged  and  more  deeply  phil- 
osophical discourse  in  prose  upon  the  interesting 
truth  which  in  his  'Vanity  of  Human  Wishes'  he 
had  so  successfully  enforced  in  verse. 


PREFATORY  NOTE.  5 

"The  fund  of  thinking  which  this  work  contains  is 
such,  that  almost  every  sentence  of  it  may  furnish  a 
subject  of  long  meditation.   .  .  .  Notwithstanding  my 
high  admiration  of  '  Rasselas,'   I  will  not  maintain 
that  the  '  morbid  melancholy '  in  Johnson's  constitu- 
tion may  not  perhaps  have  made  life  appear  to  him 
more  insipid  and  unhappy  than  it  generally  is.  .  .  . 
Yet   whatever   additional   shade    his    own   particular 
sensations  may  have  thrown  on  his  representation  of 
life,    attentive   observation    and    close    inquiry    have 
convinced  me  that  there    is  too  much  reality  in  the 
gloomy  picture.      The   truth,    however,  is,   that   we 
judge  of  the  happiness  and  misery  of  life  differently 
at   different    times,    according   to   the   state   of    our 
changeable    frame.      I    always  remember  a   remark 
made  to  me  by  a  Turkish  lady,  educated  in  France, 
'  Ma  foi,  Monsieur,  notre  bonheur  depend de  lafa^on 
que  notre  sang  circule?     This   I  have  learnt  from    a 
pretty  hard   course   of    experience,  and   would,  from 
sincere  benevolence,  impress  upon  all  who  honor  this 
book  with  a  perusal,  that  until  a  steady  conviction  is 
obtained  that  the  present  life  is  an  imperfect  state 
and  only  a  passage  to  a  better,  if  we  comply  with  the 
Divine  scheme  of  progressive  improvement,  and  also 
that  it  is  a  part  of  the  mysterious  plan  of  Providence 
that  intellectual  beings  must  be  '  made  perfect  through 
suffering:,'  there   will   be   a  continual  recurrence   of 
disappointment  and  uneasiness.     But  if  we  walk  with 
hope  in  the  'mid-day  sun  '  of  revelation,  our  temper 
and  disposition  will  be  such  that  the   comforts  and 
enjoyments    in   our  way  will    be  relished,  while  we 
patiently    support    the    inconveniences     and    pains. 
After  much  speculation  and  various  reasonings,  I  ac- 
knowledge myself  convinced  of  the  truth  of  Voltaire's 
conclusion,  '  Apres  tout,  e'est  un  t/ionde  passable.1  " 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 

I.     Description  of  a  Palace  in  a  Valley      .  n 

II.     The  Discontent  of  Rasselas  in  the  Happy 

Valley 16 

III.  The  Wants  of  Him  that  wants  Nothing  20 

IV.  The  Prince  continues  to  grieve  and  muse  23 
V.     The  Prince  meditates  his  Escape  .     .     .  2S 

VI.     A  Dissertation  on  the  Art  of  Flying   .  30 

VII.     The  Prince  finds  a  Man  of  Learning    .  36 

VIII.    The  History  of  Imlac 3S 

IX.    The  History  of  Imlac  continued    ...  43 
X.    Imlac's  History  continued.     A  Disserta- 
tion upon  Poetry 47 

XI.     Imlac's  Narrative  continued.     A  Hint  on 

Pilgrimage 51 

XII.     The  Story  of  Imlac  continued    ....  56 

XIII.  Rasselas  discovers  the  Means  of  Escape  62 

XIV.  Rasselas    and    Imlac    receive    an    unex- 

pected Visit 66 

XV.     The  Prince  and  Princess  leave  the  Val- 
ley, and  see  many  wonders 69 


8  CONTENTS. 

Chapter  Pace 

XVI.    They  enter  Cairo,  and  find  every  Man 

happy 72 

XVII.    The  Prince  associates  with  Young  Men 

of  Spirit  and  Gavety 77 

XVIII.    The  Prince  finds  a  Wise  and  Happy  Man      80 

XIX.    A  glimpse  of  Pastoral  Life 84 

XX.    The  Danger  of  Prosperity S6 

XXI.    The  Happiness  of  Solitude.     The  Her- 
mit's History 89 

XXII.  The    Happiness  of  a  Life  led  accord- 

ing to  Nature 93 

XXIII.  The   Prince  and  his  Sister  divide  be- 

tween  them    the  Work  of   Observa- 
tion        97 

XXIV.  The  Prince  examines  the  Happiness  of 

High  Stations 99 

XXV.     The  Princess  pursues  her  Inquiry  with 

more  Diligence  than  Success    .     .     .  ioi 
XXVI.    The  Princess   continues   her    Remarks 

upon  Private  Life 104 

XXVII.     Disquisition  upon  Greatness      ....  108 
XXVIII.     Rasselas  and  Nekayah  continue  their 

Conversation 112 

XXIX.    The  Debate  of  Marriage  continued     .  116 
XXX.     Imlac  enters,  and  changes  the  Conver- 
sation    122 

XXXI.  They  Visit  the  Pyramids 126 

XXXII.  They  enter  the  Pyramid 130 

XXXIII.     The    Princess    meets    with    an     unex- 
pected   Misfortune 132 


CONTENTS.  9 

CHAPTER  PACB 

XXXIV.    They   return  to  Cairo  without   Pe- 

kuah 134 

XXXV.    The  Princess  languishes  for  want  of 

Pekuah 138 

XXXVI.    Pekuah    is    still    remembered.      The 

Progress  of  Sorrow 143 

XXXVII.     The  Princess  hears  news  of  Pekuah      145 

XXXVIII.     The  Adventures  of  the  Lady  Pekuah     14S 

XXXIX.    The  Adventures  of  Pekuah  continued    154 

XL.     The  History  of  a  Man  of  Learning  .     162 

XLI.     The  Astronomer  discovers  the  Cause 

of  his  Uneasiness 165 

XLII.     The  Opinion  of  the  Astronomer  is  ex- 
plained and  justified 167 

XLIII.     The  Astronomer  leaves  Imlac  his  di- 
rections     170 

XLIV.     The  dangerous  Prevalence  of  Imagi- 
nation   172 

XLV.    They  discourse  with  an  old  Man      .     176 
XLVI.    The   Princess  and   Pekuah  visit  the 

Astronomer 1S1 

XLVII.     The  Prince  enters,  and  brings  a  new 

Topic 189 

XLVIII.     Imlac   discourses  on   the   Nature  of 

the  Soul 194 

XLIX.     The  Conclusion,  in  which  Nothing  is 

Concluded 200 


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l 


THE   HISTORY   OF   RASSELAS, 


PRINCE  OF   ABYSSINIA. 


CHAPTER   I. 


DESCRIPTION   OF   A   PALACE    IN   A   VALLEY. 


|sipl^|?"E  who  listen  with  credulity  to  the 
whispers  of  fancy,  and  pursue  with 
eagerness  the  phantoms  of  hope  ;  who 
expect  that  age  will  perform  the*-  '  y 
promises  of  youth,  and  that  the  deficiencies  of 
the  present  day  will  be  supplied  by  the  mor- 
row, —  attend  to  the  history  of  Rasselas,  Prince  of 
Abyssinia. 

Rasselas  was  the  fourth  son  of  the  mighty  em- 
peror in  whose  dominions  the  Father  of  Waters     ^ 
begins  his  course,  whose  bounty  pours  down  the 


•  12  RASSELAS. 

streams  of  plenty,  and  scatters  over  half  the 
world  the  harvests  of  Egypt. 

According  to  the  custom  which  has  descended 
from  age  to  age  among  the  monarchs  of  the 
torrid  zone,  Rasselas  was  confined  in  a  private 
palace  with  the  other  sons  and  daughters  of 
Abyssinian  royalty,  till  the  order  of  succession 
should  call  him  to  the  throne. 

The  place,  which  the  wisdom  or  policy  of 
antiquity  had  destined  for  the  residence  of  the 
Abyssinian  princes,  was  a  spacious  valley  in  the 
/  kingdom  of  Amhara,  surrounded  on  every  side  by 
mountains,  of  which  the  summits  overhang  the 
middle  part.  The  only  passage  by  which  it  could 
be  entered  was  a  cavern  that  passed  under  a  rock, 
of  which  it  has  long  been  disputed  whether  it  was 
the  work  of  Nature  or  of  human  industry.  The 
outlet  of  the  cavern  was  concealed  by  a  thick  wood, 
and  the  mouth,  which  opened  into  the  valley,  was 
closed  with  gates  of  iron,  forged  by  the  artificers 
of  ancient  days,  so  massy  that  no  man  without 
the  help  of  engines  could  open  or  shut  them. 

From  the  mountains  on  every  side  rivulets  de- 
scended that  filled  all  the  valley  with  verdure  and 
fertility,  and  formed  a  lake  in  the  middle,  in- 
habited by  fish  of  every  species,  and  frequented  by 
every  fowl  whom  Nature  has  taught  to  dip  the  wing 
in  water.  This  lake  discharged  its  superfluities 
by  a  stream  which  entered  a  dark  cleft  of  the 
mountain    on   the   northern    side,    and    fell   with 


THE  HAPPY   VALLEY.  1 3 

dreadful   noise    from    precipice   to   precipice   till 
it  was  heard  no  more. 

The  sides  of  the  mountains  were  covered  with 
trees,  the  banks  of  the  brooks  were  diversified 
with  flowers;  every  blast  shook  spices  from  the 
rocks,  and  every  month  dropped  fruits  from  the 
ground.  All  animals  that  bite  the  grass  or  browse 
the  shrub,  whether  wild  or  tame,  wandered  in  JT 
this  extensive  circuit,  secured  from  beasts  of  prey 
by  the  mountains  which  confined  them.  On  one 
part  were  flocks  and  herds  feeding  in  the  pastures, 
on  another  all  the  beasts  of  chase  frisking  in  the 
lawns ;  the  sprightly  kid  was  bounding  on  the 
rocks,  the  subtle  monkey  frolicking  in  the  trees, 
and  the  solemn  elephant  reposing  in  the  shade. 
All  the  diversities  of  the  world  were  brought 
together,  the  blessings  of  Nature  were  collected, 
and  its  evils  extracted  and  excluded. 

The  valley,  wide  and  fruitful,  supplied  its  in- 
habitants with  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  all 
delights  and  superfluities  were  added  at  the  an- 
nual visit  which  the  emperor  paid  his  children, 
when  the  iron  gate  was  opened  to  the  sound  of 
music ;  and  during  eight  days  every  one  that  re- 
sided in  the  valley  was  required  to  propose  what- 
ever might  contribute  to  make  seclusion  pleasant, 
to  fill  up  the  vacancies  of  attention,  and  les- 
sen the  tediousness  of  time.  Every  desire  was 
immediately  granted.  All  the  artificers  of  pleas- 
ure were   called   to   gladden    the    festivity;    and 


/ 


14  RASSELAS. 

musicians  exerted  the  power  of  harmony,  and 
the  dancers  showed  their  activity  before  the 
princes,  in  hope  that  they  should  pass  their  lives 
in  this  blissful  captivity,  to  which  those  only  were 
admitted  whose  performance  was  thought  able  to 
add  novelty  to  luxury.  Such  was  the  appearance 
of  security  and  delight  which  this  retirement  af- 
forded, that  they  to  whom  it  was  new  always 
desired  that  it  might  be  perpetual ;  and  as  those 
on  whom  the  iron  gate  had  once  closed  were 
never  suffered  to  return,  the  effect  of  long  ex- 
perience could  not  be  known.  Thus  every  year 
produced  new  schemes  of  delight  and  new  com- 
petitors for  imprisonment. 

The  palace  stood  on  an  eminence  raised  about 
thirty  paces  above  the  surface  of  the  lake.  It  was 
divided  into  many  squares  or  courts,  built  with 
greater  or  less  magnificence  according  to  the  rank 
of  those  for  whom  they  were  designed.  The  roofs 
were  turned  into  arches  of  massy  stone,  joined  by 
a  cement  that  grew  harder  by  time  ;  and  the  build- 
ing stood  from  century  to  century  deriding  the 
solstitial  rains  and  equinoctial  hurricanes,  without 
need  of  reparation. 

This  house,  which  was  so  large  as  to  be  fully 
known  to  none  but  some  ancient  officers  who  suc- 
^  cessively  inherited  the  secrets  of  the  place,  was 
built  as  if  suspicion  herself  had  dictated  the  plan. 
To  every  room  there  was  an  open  and  secret  pas- 
sage ;  every  square  had  a  communication  with  the 


THE  HAPPY   VALLEY.  1 5 

rest  either  from  the  upper  stories  by  private  gal- 
leries or  by  subterranean  passages  from  the  lower 
apartments.  Many  of  the  columns  had  un- 
suspected cavities,  in  which  a  long  race  of  mon- 
archs  had  deposited  their  treasures.  They  then 
closed  up  the  opening  with  marble,  which  was 
never  to  be  removed  but  in  the  utmost  exigencies 
of  the  kingdom,  and  recorded  their  accumula- 
tions in  a  book  which  was  itself  concealed  in  a 
tower  not  entered  but  by  the  emperor,  attended 
by  the  prince  who  stood  next  in  succession. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    DISCONTENT   OF   RASSELAS   IN   THE    HAPPY 
VALLEY. 


ijERE  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Abys- 
sinia lived  only  to  know  the  soft 
vicissitudes  of  pleasure  and  repose, 
attended  by  all  that  were  skilful  to 
delight,  and  gratified  with  whatever  the  senses 
can  enjoy.  They  wandered  in  gardens  of  fra- 
grance, and  slept  in  the  fortresses  of  security. 
Every  art  was  practised  to  make  them  pleased 
with  their  own  condition.  The  sages  who  in- 
structed them  told  them  of  nothing  but  the 
miseries  of  public  life,  and  described  all  beyond 
the  mountains  as  regions  of  calamity,  where  dis- 
cord was  always  raging,  and  where  man  preyed 
upon  man.  To  heighten  their  opinion  of  their 
own  felicity,  they  were  daily  entertained  with 
songs,  the  subject  of  which  was  the  happy  valley. 
Their  appetites  were  excited  by  frequent  enumer- 
ations of  different  enjoyments,  and  revelry  and 


DISCONTENT  OF  MAN.  I  7 

merriment  was  the   business  of  every  hour  from 
the  dawn  of  morning  to  the  close  of  even. 

These  methods  were  generally  successful ;  Jew 
of  the  princes  had  ever  wished  to  enlarge  their 
bounds,  but  passed  their  lives  in  full  conviction 
that  they  had  all  within  their  reach  that  art  or 
nature  could  bestow,  and  pitied  those  whom  fate  • 
had  excluded  from  this  seat  of  tranquillity,  as  the 
sport  of  chance  and  the  slaves  of  misery. 

Thus  they  rose  in  the  morning  and  lay  down  at 
night,  pleased  with  each  other  and  with  them- 
selves;  aU_but  Rasselas,  who,  in  the  twenty-sixth 
year  of  his  age,  began  to  withdraw  himself  from  p 
their  pastimes  and  assemblies,  and  to  delight  in 
solitary  walks  and  silent  meditation.  He  often 
sat  before  tables  covered  with  luxury,  and  forgot 
to  taste  the  dainties  that  were  placed  before  him  ; 
he  rose  abruptly  in  the  midst  of  the  song,  and 
hastily  retired  beyond  the  sound  of  music.  His 
attendants  observed  the  change,  and  endeavored 
to  renew  his  love  of  pleasure  ;  he  neglected  their 
officiousness,  repulsed  their  invitations,  and  spent 
day  after  day  on  the  banks  of  rivulets  sheltered 
with  trees,  where  he  sometimes  listened  to  the  ^ 
birds  in  the  branches,  sometimes  observed  the 
fish  playing  in  the  stream,  and  anon  cast  his  eyes 
upon  the  pastures  and  mountains  filled  with 
animals,  of  which  some  were  biting  the  herbage, 
and  some  sleeping  among  the  bushes.  This  sin- 
gularity of  his  humor  made  him  much  observed. 


1 8  RASSELAS. 

One  of  the  sages,  in  whose  conversation  he  had 
formerly  delighted,  followed  him  secretly,  in  hope 
of  discovering  the  cause  of  his  disquiet.  Rasselas, 
who  knew  not  that  any  one  was  near  him,  having 
for  some  time  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  goats  that 
were  browsing  among  the  rocks,  began  to  com- 
pare their  condition  with  his  own. 

"What,"  said  he,  "makes  the  difference  be- 
tween man  and  all  the  rest  of  the  animal  crea- 
tion? Every  beast  that  strays  beside  me,  has  the 
same  corporeal  necessities  with  myself,  —  he  is  hun- 
gry and  crops  the  grass ;  he  is  thirsty,  and  drinks 
the  stream ;  his  thirst  and  hunger  are  appeased ; 
he  is  satisfied  and  sleeps ;  he  arises  again,  and  is 
hungry ;  he  is  again  fed,  and  is  at  rest.  I  am  hun- 
gry and  thirsty  like  him,  but  when  thirst  and  hun- 
ger cease  I  am  not  at  rest ;  I  am,  like  him,  pained 
with  want,  but  am  not,  like  him,  satisfied  with  ful- 
ness. The  intermediate  hours  are  tedious  and 
gloomy ;  I  long  again  to  be  hungry,  that  I  may 
again  quicken  my  attention.  The  birds  peck  the 
berries  or  the  corn,  and  fly  away  to  the  groves, 
where  they  sit  in  seeming  happiness  on  the 
branches,  and  waste  their  lives  in  tuning  one  un- 
varied series  of  sounds.  I  likewise  can  call  the 
lutanist  and  the  singer,  but  the  sounds  that  pleased 
me  yesterday  weary  me  to-day,  and  will  grow 
yet  more  wearisome  to-morrow.  I  can  discover 
within  me  no  power  of  perception  which  is  not 
glutted  with  its  proper  pleasure,  yet  I  do  not  feel 


DISCONTENT  OF  MAN.  1 9 

m^self__delighl£d.     Man    surely  has  some    latent  \    ^ 
sense  for  vv4iich^his_place  affords  no  gratification; 
or  he  has  some  desires  distinct  from  sense  which/ 
must  be  satisfied  before  he  can  be  happy." 

After  this  he  lifted  up  his  head,  and  seeing  the 
moon  rising,  walked  towards  the  palace.  As  he 
passed  through  the  fields,  and  saw  the  animals 
around  him,  "  Ye,"  said  he,  "  are  happy,  and 
need  not  envy  me  that  walk  thus  among  you, 
burdened  with  myself;  nor  do  I,  ye  gentle  beings, 
envy  your  felicity ;  for  it  is  not  the  felicity  of  man. 
I  have  many  distresses  from  which  ye  are  free ; 
I  fear  pain  when  I  do  not  feel  it ;  I  sometimes 
shrink  at  evils  recollected,  and  sometimes  start 
at  evils  anticipated.  Surely  the  equity  of  Provi- 
dence has  balanced  peculiar  sufferings  with  pecu-, 
liar  enjoyments." 

With  observations  like  these  the  prince  amused 
himself  as  he  returned,  uttering  them  with  a 
plaintive  voice,  yet  with  a  look  that  discovered 
him  to  feel  some  complacence  in  his  own  per- 
spicuity, and  to  receive  some  solace  of  the  mis- 
eries of  life,  from  consciousness  of  the  delicacy 
with  which  he  felt,  and  the  eloquence  with  which 
he  bewailed  them.  He  mingled  cheerfully  in  the 
diversions  of  the  evening,  and  all  rejoiced  to 
find  that  his  heart  was  lightened. 


CHAPTER    III. 


THE   WANTS   OF    HIM   THAT   WANTS   NOTHING. 


|N  the  next  day  his  old  instructor,  imag- 
ining that  he  had  now  made  himself 
acquainted  with  his  disease  of  mind, 
was  in  hope  of  curing  it  by  counsel, 
and  officiously  sought  an  opportunity  of  confer- 
ence, which  the  prince,  having  long  considered 
him  as  one  whose  intellects  were  exhausted,  was 
not  very  willing  to  afford :  "  Why,"  said  he, 
"  does  this  man  thus  obtrude  upon  me  ;  shall  I 
be  never  suffered  to  forget  those  lectures  which 
pleased  only  while  they  were  new,  and  to  become 
new  again,  must  be  forgotten?"  He  then  walked 
into  the  wood,  and  composed  himself  to  his  usual 
meditations  ;  when,  before  his  thoughts  had  taken 
any  settled  form,  he  perceived  his  pursuer  at  his 
side,  and  was  at  first  prompted  by  his  impatience 
to  go  hastily  away ;  but,  being  unwilling  to  offend 
a  man  whom   he  had   once  reverenced  and  still 


THE   WANTS  OF  MAN.  21 

loved,  he  invited  him  to  sit  down  with  him  on  the 
bank. 

The  old  man,  thus  encouraged,  began  to  lament 
the  change  which  had  been  lately  observed  in  the 
prince,  and  to  inquire  why  he  so  often  retired 
from  the  pleasures  of  the  palace,  to  loneliness  and 
silence.  "  IJly  from  pleasure,"  said  the  prince, 
"  because-  pleasure  has  ceased  to  please  :  I  am 
lonely  because  I  am  miserable,  and  am  unwilling 
to  cloud  with  my  presence  the  happiness  of 
others."  "  You,  sir,"  said  the  sage,  "  are  the 
first  who  has  complained  of  misery  in  the  Happy 
Valley.  I  hope  to  convince  you  that  your  com- 
plaints have  no  real  cause.  You  are  here  in  full 
possession  of  all  the  emperor  of  Abyssinia  can 
bestow ;  here  is  neither  labor  to  be  endured  nor 
danger  to  be  dreaded,  yet  here  is  all  that  labor  or 
danger  can  procure  or  purchase.  Look  round 
and  tell  me  which  of  your  wants  is  without  supply ; 
if  you  want  nothing,  how  are  you  unhappy?  " 

"That  I  want  nothing,"  said  the  prince,  "or 
that  I  know  not  what  I  want,  is  the  cause  of  my 
complaint ;  if  I  had  any  known  want,  I  should 
have  a  certain  wish  ;  that  wish  would  excite  en- 
deavor, and  I  should  not  then  repine  to  see  the 
sun  move  so  slowly  towards  the  western  mountain, 
or  lament  when  the  day  breaks  and  sleep  will  no 
longer  hide  me  from  myself.  When  I  see  the 
kids  and  the  lambs  chasing  one  another,  I  fancy 
I  should  be  happy  if  I  had  something  to  pursue. 


2  2  RASSELAS. 

But,  possessing  all  that  I  can  want,  I  find  one  day 
and  one  hour  exactly  like  another,  except  that  the 
latter  is  still  more  tedious  than  the  former.  Let 
your  experience  inform  me  how  the  day  may  now 
seem  as  short  as  in  my  childhood,  while  Nature 
was  yet  fresh,  and  every  moment  showed  me  what 
I  never  had  observed  before.  I  have  already  en- 
joyed too  much;  give  me  something  to  desire." 
The  old  man  was  surprised  at  this  new  species  of 
affliction,  and  knew  not  what  to  reply,  yet  was  un- 
willing to  be  silent.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  if  you  had 
seen  the  miseries  of  the  world,  you  would  know 
how  to  value  your  present  state."  "  Now,"  said 
the  prince,  "  you  have  given  me  something  to 
desire ;  I  shall  long  to  see  the  miseries  of  the 
world,  since  the  sight  of  them  is  necessary  to 
happiness." 


CHAPTER   IV. 


THE   PRINCE   CONTINUES   TO    GRIEVE   AND   MUSE. 


T  this  time  the  sound  of  music  pro- 
claimed the  hour  of  repast,  and  the 
conversation  was  concluded.  The  old 
man  went  away  sufficiently  discon- 
tented to  find  that  his  reasonings  had  produced 
the  only  conclusions  which  they  were  intended  to 
prevent.  But  in  the  decline  of  life  shame  and 
grief  are  of  short  duration,  —  whether  it  be  that  we 
bear  easily  what  we  have  borne  long ;  or  that, 
finding  ourselves  in  age  less  regarded,  we  less 
regard  others ;  or,  that  we  look  with  slight  regard 
upon  afflictions  to  which  we  know  that  the  hand 
of  death  is  about  to  put  an  end. 

The  prince,  whose  views  were  extended  to  a 
wider  space,  could  not  speedily  quiet  his  emotions. 
He  had  been  before  terrified  at  the  length  of  life  ^ 
which  Nature  promised  him,  because  he  considered 
that  in  a  long  time  much  must  be  endured ;  Jie, 
now  rejoiced  in  his  youth,  because  in  many  years 
much  might  be  done.     This  first  beam  of  hope, 


24  RASSELAS. 

that  had  been  ever  darted  into  his  mind,  rekindled 
youth  in  his  cheeks,  and  doubled  the  lustre  of  his 
eyes.  He  was  fired  with  the  desire  of  doing 
something,  though  he  knew  not  yet  with  distinct- 
ness either  end  or  means.  He  was  now  no  longer 
gloomy  and  unsocial ;  but,  considering  himself  as 
master  of  a  secret  stock  of  happiness,  which  he 
could  enjoy  only  by  concealing  it,  he  affected  to 
be  busy  in  all  schemes  of  diversion,  and  endeav- 
ored to  make  others  pleased  with  the  state  of 
which  he  himself  was  weary.  But  pleasures  never 
can  be  so  multiplied  or  continued  as  not  to  leave 
much  of  life  unemployed  ;  there  were  many  hours, 
both  of  the  night  and  day,  which  he  could  spend 
without  suspicion  in  solitary  thought.  The  load 
of  life  was  much  lightened  :  he  went  eagerly  into 
the  assemblies,  because  he  supposed  the  frequency 
of  his  presence  necessary  to  the  success  of  his 
purposes ;  he  retired  gladly  to  privacy,  because 
he  had  now  a  subject  of  thought.  His  chief 
amusement  was  to  picture  to  himself  that  world 
which  he  had  never  seen ;  to  place  himself  in 
various  conditions,  to  be  entangled  in  imaginary 
difficulties,  and  to  be  engaged  in  wild  adventures ; 
but  his  benevolence  always  terminated  his  pro- 
jects in  the  relief  of  distress,  the  detection  of  fraud, 
the  defeat  of  oppression,  and  the  diffusion  of 
happiness. 

Thus  passed  twenty  months  of  the  life  of  Ras- 
selas.     He  busied  himself  so  intensely  in  visionary 


IRRESOLUTION.  25 

bustle,  that  he  forgot  his  real  solitude  ;  and,  amidst 
hourly  preparations  for  the  various  incidents  of 
human  affairs,  neglected  to  consider  by  what 
means  he  should   mingle  with   mankind. 

One  day,  as  he  was  sitting  on  a  bank,  he  feigned 
to  himself  an  orphan  virgin  robbed  of  her  little 
portion  by  a  treacherous  lover,  and  crying  after 
him  for  restitution  and  redress.  So  strongly  was 
the  image  impressed  upon  his  mind,  that  he 
started  up  in  the  maid's  defence,  and  ran  forward 
to  seize  the  plunderer  with  all  the  eagerness  of 
real  pursuit.  Fear  naturally  quickens  the  flight  of 
guilt.  Rasselas  could  not  catch  the  fugitive  with 
his  utmost  efforts ;  but,  resolving  to  weary,  by 
.perseverance,  him  whom  he  could  not  surpass  in 
speed,  he  pressed  on  till  the  foot  of  the  mountain 
stopped  his  course. 

Here  he  recollected  himself,  and  smiled  at  his 
own  useless  impetuosity.  Then  raising  his  eyes 
to  the  mountain,  "This,"  said  he, "'  is  the  fatal 
obstacle  that  hinders  at  once  the  enjoyment  of 
pleasure,  and  the  exercise  of  virtue.  How  long 
is  it  that  my  hopes  and  wishes  have  flown  beyond 
this  boundary  of  my  life,  which  yet  I  never  have 
attempted  to  surmount !  "  Struck  with  this  re- 
flection, he  sat  down  to  muse,  and  remembered, 
that  since  he  first  resolved  to  escape  from  his  con- 
finement, the  Sun  had  passed  twice  over  him  in 
his  annual  course.  He  now  felt  a  degree  of  regret 
with  which  he  had  never  been  before  acquainted. 


-4 


26  RASSELAS. 

He  considered  how  much  might  have  been  done 
in  the  time  which  had  passed,  and  left  nothing 
real  behind  it.  He  compared  twenty  months 
with  the  life  of  man.  "  In  life,"  said  he,  "is  not 
to  be  counted  the  ignorance  of  infancy,  or  the 
imbecility  of  age.  We  are  long  before  we  are 
able  to  think,  and  we  soon  cease  from  the  power 
of  acting.  The  true  period  of  human  existence 
may  be  reasonably  estimated  at  forty  years,  of 
which  I  have  mused  away  the  four-and-twentieth 
part.  What  I  have  lost  was  certain,  for  I  have 
certainly  possessed  it ;  but  of  twenty  months  to 
come  who  can  assure  me?  " 

The  consciousness  of  his  own  folly  pierced  him 
deeply,  and  he  was  long  before  he  could  be 
reconciled  to  himself.  "The  rest  of  my  time," 
said  he,  "has  been  lost  by  the  crime  or  folly  of 
my  ancestors,  and  the  absurd  institutions  of  my 
country  ;  I  remember  it  with  disgust,  yet  without 
remorse  :  but  the  months  that  have  passed  since 
new  light  darted  into  my  soul,  since  I  formed  a 
scheme  of  reasonable  felicity,  have  been  squan- 
dered by  my  own  fault.  I  have  lost  that  which 
can  never  be  restored  ;  I  have  seen  the  sun  rise 
and  set  for  twenty  months,  an  idle  gazer  on  the 
light  of  heaven :  in  this  time  the  birds  have  left 
the  nest  of  their  mother,  and  committed  them- 
selves to  the  woods  and  to  the  skies ;  the  kid  has 
forsaken  the  teat,  and  learned  by  degrees  to  climb 
the  rocks  in  quest  of  independent  sustenance.     I 


IRRESOLUTION.  27 

only  have  made  no  advances,  but  am  still  helpless 
and  ignorant.  The  moon,  by  more  than  twenty 
changes,  admonished  me  of  the  flux  of  life  ;  the 
stream  that  rolled  before  my  feet  upbraided  my 
inactivity.  I  sat  feasting  on  intellectual  luxury, 
regardless  alike  of  the  example  of  the  earth,  and 
the  instruction  of  the  planets.  Twenty  months 
are  passed  ;  who  shall  restore  them?  " 

These  sorrowful  meditations  fastened  upon  his 
mind  ;  he  passed  four  months  in  resolving  to  lose 
no  more  time  in  idle  resolves,  and  was  awakened 
to  more  vigorous  exertion  by  hearing  a  maid,  who 
had  broken  a  porcelain  cup,  remark,  that  what 
cannot  be  repaired  is  not  to  be  regretted. 

This  was  obvious ;  and  Rasselas  reproached 
himself  that  he  had  not  discovered  it,  having  not 
known  or  not  considered  how  many  useful  hints 
are  obtained  by  chance,  and  how  often  the  mind, 
hurried  by  her  own  ardor  to  distant  views,  neglects 
the  truths  that  lie  open  before  her.  He,  for  a 
few  hours,  regretted  his  regret,  and  from  that  time 
bent  his  whole  mind  upon  the  means  of  escaping 
from  the  Valley  of  Happiness. 


CHAPTER   V. 


THE   PRINCE   MEDITATES  HIS  ESCAPE. 


-* 


j  E  now  found  that  it  would  be  very  diffi- 
cult to  effect  that  which  it  was  very  easy 
to  suppose  effected.  When  he  looked 
round  about  him,  he  saw  himself  con- 
fined by  the  bars  of  Nature,  which  had  never  yet 
been  broken,  and  by  the  gate,  through  which  none 
that  once  had  passed  it  were  ever  able  to  return. 
He  was  now  impatient  as  an  eagle  in  the  grate. 
He  passed  week  after  week  in  clambering  the 
mountains,  to  see  if  there  was  any  aperture  which 
the  bushes  might  conceal,  but  found  all  the 
summits  inaccessible  by  their  prominence.  The 
iron  gate  he  despaired  to  open ;  for  it  was  not 
only  secured  with  all  the  power  of  art,  but  was 
always  watched  by  successive  sentinels,  and  was 
by  its  position  exposed  to  the  perpetual  observa- 
tion of  all  the  inhabitants. 

He  then  examined  the  cavern  through  which 
the  waters  of  the  lake  were  discharged  ;  and  look- 
ing down  at  a  time  when  the  sun  shone  strongly 


MEDITATES  ESCAPE.  29 

upon  its  mouth,  he  discovered  it  to  be  full  of 
broken  rocks,  which,  though  they  permitted  the 
stream  to  flow  through  many  narrow  passages, 
would  stop  any  body  of  solid  bulk.  He  returned 
discouraged  and  dejected ;  but,  having  now 
known  the  blessing  of  hope,  resolved  never  to 
despair. 

In  these  fruitless  searches  he  spent  ten  months. 
The  time,  however,  passed  cheerfully  away :  in 
the  morning  he  rose  with  new  hope,  in  the  even- 
ing applauded  his  own  diligence,  and  in  the 
night  slept  sound  after  his  fatigue.  He  met  a 
thousand  amusements  which  beguiled  his  labor 
and  diversified  his  thoughts.  He  discerned  the 
various  instincts  of  animals  and  properties  of 
plants,  and  found  the  place  replete  with  wonders, 
of  which  he  purposed  to  solace  himself  with  the 
contemplation,  if  he  should  never  be  able  to 
accomplish  his  flight,  rejoicing  that  his  endeavors, 
though  yet  unsuccessful,  had  supplied  him  with  a 
source  of  inexhaustible  inquiry. 

But  his  original  curiosity  was  not  yet  abated ; 
he  resolved  to  obtain  some  knowledge  of  the  ways 
of  men.  His  wish  still  continued,  but  his  hope 
grew  less.  He  ceased  to  survey  any  longer  the 
walls  of  his  prison,  and  spared  to  search  by  new 
toils  for  interstices  which  he  knew  could  not  be 
found,  yet  determined  to  keep  his  design  always 
in  view,  and  lay  hold  on  any  expedient  that  time 
should  offer. 


CHAPTER   VI. 
a  Dissertation  on  the  art  of  flying. 

^MONG  the  artists  that  had  been  allured 
into  the  happy  valley,  to  labor  for  the 
accommodation  and  pleasure  of  its 
inhabitants,  was  a  man  eminent  for 
his  knowledge  of  the  mechanic  powers,  who  had 
contrived  many  engines  both  of  use  and  recrea- 
tion. By  a  wheel,  which  the  stream  turned,  he 
forced  the  water  into  a  tower,  whence  it  was  dis- 
tributed to  all  the  apartments  of  the  palace.  He 
erected  a  pavilion  in  the  garden,  around  which 
he  kept  the  air  always  cool  by  artificial  showers. 
One  of  the  groves  appropriated  to  the  ladies  was 
ventilated  by  fans,  to  which  the  rivulet  that  ran 
through  it  gave  a  constant  motion ;  and  instru- 
ments of  soft  music  were  placed  at  proper  dis- 
tances, of  which  some  played  by  the  impulse  of 
the  wind,  and  some  by  the  power  of  the  stream. 

This  artist  was  sometimes  visited  by  Rasselas, 
who  was  pleased  with  every  kind  of  knowledge, 


THE  ART  OF  FLYING.  31 

imagining  that  the  time  would  come  when  all  his 
acquisitions  should  be  of  use  to  him  in  the  open 
world.  He  came  one  day  to  amuse  himself  in 
his  usual  manner,  and  found  the  master  busy  in 
building  a  sailing  chariot ;  he  saw  that  the  design 
was  practicable  on  a  level  surface,  and  with  ex- 
pressions of  great  esteem  solicited  its  completion. 
The  workman  was  pleased  to  find  himself  so  much 
regarded  by  the  prince,  and  resolved  to  gain  yet 
higher  honors.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  "  you  have  seen 
but  a  small  part  of  what  the  mechanic  sciences 
can  perform.  I  have  been  long  of  opinion,  that 
instead  of  the  tardy  conveyance  of  ships  and 
chariots,  man  might  use  the  swifter  migration  of 
wings ;  that  the  fields  of  air  are  open  to  knowl- 
edge, and  that  only  ignorance  and  idleness  need 
crawl  upon  the  ground." 

This  hint  rekindled  the  prince's  desire  of  pass- 
ing the  mountains ;  having  seen  what  the  me- 
chanist had  already  performed,  he  was  willing  to 
fancy  that  he  could  do  more,  yet  resolved  to  in- 
quire further,  before  he  suffered  hope  to  afflict 
him  by  disappointment.  "  I  am  afraid,"  said  he 
to  the  artist,  "  that  your  imagination  prevails  over 
your  skill,  and  that  you  now  tell  me  rather  what 
you  wish  than  what  you  know.  Every  animal  has 
his  element  assigned  to  him ;  the  birds  have  the 
air,  and  man  and  beasts  the  earth."  "  So,"  re- 
plied the  mechanist,  "  fishes  have  the  water,  in 
which  yet  beasts  can  swim  by  nature,  and  men 


32  RASSELAS. 

by  art.  He  that  can  swim  needs  not  despair  to 
fly :  to  swim  is  to  fly  in  a  grosser  fluid,  and  to  fly 
is  to  swim  in  a  subtler.  We  are  only  to  propor- 
tion our  power  of  resistance  to  the  different  den- 
sity of  matter  through  which  we  are  to  pass.  You 
will  be  necessarily  upborne  by  the  air,  if  you  can 
renew  any  impulse  upon  it  faster  than  the  air  can 
recede  from  the  pressure." 

"  But  the  exercise  of  swimming,"  said  the  prince, 
"  is  very  laborious,  the  strongest  limbs  are  soon 
wearied  ;  I  am  afraid  the  act  of  flying  will  be  yet 
more  violent,  and  wings  will  be  of  no  great  use 
unless  we  can  fly  further  than  we  can  swim." 

"  The  labor  of  rising  from  the  ground,"  said 
the  artist,  "  will  be  great,  as  we  see  it  in  the 
heavier  domestic  fowls ;  but  as  we  mount  higher, 
the  earth's  attraction  and  the  body's  gravity  will 
be  gradually  diminished,  till  we  shall  arrive  at  a 
region  where  the  man  will  float  in  the  air  without 
any  tendency  to  fall ;  no  care  will  then  be  neces- 
sary but  to  move  forwards,  which  the  gentlest 
impulse  will  effect.  You,  sir,  whose  curiosity  is 
so  extensive,  will  easily  conceive  with  what  pleas- 
ure a  philosopher,  furnished  with  wings  and  hov- 
ering in  the  sky,  would  see  the  earth  and  all  its 
inhabitants  rolling  beneath  him  and  presenting 
to  him  successively,  by  its  diurnal  motion,  all  the 
countries  within  the  same  parallel.  How  must 
it  amuse  the  pendant  spectator  to  see  the  moving 
scene  of  land  and  ocean,  cities  and  deserts  !     To 


THE  ART  OF  FLYING.  i>2> 

survey  with  equal  serenity  the  marts  of  trade  and 
the  fields  of  battle,  mountains  infested  by  bar- 
barians, and  fruitful  regions  gladdened  by  plenty 
and  lulled  by  peace  !  How  easily  shall  we  then  ^ 
trace  the  Nile  through  all  his  passage,  pass  over 
to  distant  regions,  and  examine  the  face  of  Nature 
from  one  extremity  of  the  earth  to  the  other  !  " 

"All  this,"  said  the  prince,  "is  much  to  be 
desired,  but  I  am  afraid  that  no  man  will  be  able 
to  breathe  in  these  regions  of  speculation  and 
tranquillity.  I  have  been  told,  that  respiration 
is  difficult  upon  lofty  mountains,  yet  from  these 
precipices,  though  so  high  as  to  produce  great 
tenuity  of  air,  it  is  very  easy  to  fall ;  therefore  I 
suspect  that,  from  any  height  where  life  can  be 
supported,  there  may  be  danger  of  too  quick 
descent." 

"  Nothing,"  .replied  the  artist,  "  will  ever  be 
attempted,  if  all  possible  objections  must  be  first 
overcome.  If  you  will  favor  my  project,  I  will 
try  the  first  flight  at  my  own  hazard.  I  have 
considered  the  structure  of  all  volant  animals, 
and  find  the  folding  continuity  of  the  bat's  wings 
most  easily  accommodated  to  the  human  form. 
Upon  this  model  I  shall  begin  my  task  to-morrow, 
and  in  a  year  expect  to  tower  into  the  air  beyond 
the  malice  and  pursuit  of  man.  But  I  will  work 
only  on  this  condition,  that  the  art  shall  not  be 
divulged,  and  that  you  shall  not  require  me  to 
make  wings  for  any  but  ourselves." 

3 


34  2?  ASS  EL  AS. 

"  Why,"  said  Rasselas,  "  should  you  envy  others 
so  great  an  advantage  ?  fAIl  skill  ought  to  be  ex- 
erted for  universal  good ;  every  man  has  owed 
much  to  others,  and  ought  to  repay  the  kindness 
that  he  has  received." 

"  If  men  were  all  virtuous,"  returned  the  artist, 
"  I  should  with  great  alacrity  teach  them  all  to 
fly.  But  what  would  be  the  security  of  the  good, 
if  the  bad  could  at  pleasure  invade  them  from  the 
sky?  Against  an  army  sailing  through  the  clouds, 
neither  walls,  nor  mountains,  nor  seas,  could  af- 
ford any  security.  A  flight  of  northern  savages 
might  hover  in  the  wind,  and  light  at  once  with 
irresistible  violence  upon  the  capital  of  a  fruitful 
region  that  was  rolling  under  them.  Even  this 
valley,  the  retreat  of  princes,  the  abode  of  happi- 
ness, might  be  violated  by  the  sudden  descent  of 
some  of  the  naked  nations  that  swarm  on  the 
coast  of  the  southern  sea." 

The  prince  promised  secrecy,  and  waited  for 
the  performance,  not  wholly  hopeless  of  success. 
He  visited  the  work  from  time  to  time,  observed 
its  progress,  and  remarked  many  ingenious  con- 
trivances to  facilitate  motion,  and  to  unite  levity 
with  strength.  The  artist  was  every  day  more 
certain  that  he  should  leave  vultures  and  eagles 
behind  him,  and  the  contagion  of  his  confidence 
seized  upon  the  prince. 

In  a  year  the  wings  were  finished,  and  on  a 
morning  appointed  the  maker  appeared,  furnished 


A  FALL.  35 

for  flight,  on  a  little  promontory ;  he  waved  his 
pinions  a  while  to  gather  air,  then  leaped  from  his   <-} 
stand,  and  in  an  instant  dropped  into  the  lake.  ' 
His  wings,  which  were  of  no  use  in  the  air,  sus- 
tained him  in  the  water,  and  the  prince  drew  him 
to  land,  half  dead  with  terror  and  vexation. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE   PRINCE    FINDS   A   MAN   OF   LEARNING. 


3 


HE  prince  was  not  much  afflicted  by 
this  disaster,  having  suffered  himself 
to  hope  for  a  happier  event  only 
because  he  had  no  other  means  of 
escape  in  view.  He  still  persisted  in  his  design  to 
leave  the  Happy  Valley  by  the  first  opportunity. 

His  imagination  was  .now  at  a  stand;  he  had 
no  prospect  of  entering  into  the  world  ;  and,  not- 
withstanding all  his  endeavors  to  support  himself, 
discontent  by  degrees  preyed  upon  him,  and  he 
began  again  to  lose  his  thoughts  in  sadness,  when 
the  rainy  season  which  in  these  countries  is  peri- 
odical made  it  inconvenient  to  wander  in  the 
woods. 

The  rain  continued  longer  and  with  more  vio- 
lence than  had  ever  been  known ;  the  clouds 
broke  on  the  surrounding  mountains,  and  the 
torrents  streamed  into  the  plain  on  every  side,  till 
the  cavern  was  too  narrow  to  discharge  the  water. 
The  lake  overflowed  its  banks,  and  all  the  level  of 
the  valley  was  covered  with  the  inundation.     The 


/ML  AC.  37 

eminence  on  which  the  palace  was  built,  and 
some  other  spots  of  rising  ground,  were  all  that 
the  eye  could  now  discover.  The  herds  and 
flocks  left  the  pastures,  and  both  the  wild  beasts 
and  the  tame  retreated  to  the  mountains. 

This  inundation  confined  all  the  princes  to 
domestic  amusements,  and  the  attention  of  Ras- 
selas  was  particularly  seized  by  a  poem  which 
Imlac  rehearsed,  upon  the  various  conditions  of 
humanity.  He  commanded  the  poet  to  attend 
him  in  his  apartment,  and  recite  his  verses  a 
second  time  ;  then  entering  into  familiar  talk,  he  ^r 
thought  himself  happy  in  having  found  a  man  who 
knew  the  world  so  well,  and  could  so  skilfully 
paint  the  scenes  of  life.  He  asked  a  thousand 
questions  about  things,  to  which,  though  common 
to  all  other  mortals,  his  confinement  from  child- 
hood had  kept  him  a  stranger.  The  poet  pitied 
his  ignorance,  and  loved  his  curiosity,  and  enter- 
tained him  from  day  to  day  with  novelty  and  in- 
struction, so  that  the  prince  regretted  the  neces- 
sity of  sleep,  and  longed  till  the  morning  should 
renew  his  pleasure. 

As  they  were  sitting  together,  the  prince  com- 
manded Imlac  to  relate  his  history,  and  to  tell  by 
what  accident  he  was  forced,  or  by  what  motive 
induced,  to  close  his  life  in  the  Happy  Valley.  As 
he  was  going  to  begin  his  narrative,  Rasselas  was 
called  to  a  concert,  and  obliged  to  restrain  his 
curiosity  till  the  evening. 


213 


^25 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  yrrvij 


K 


.tu^fe-t-&jfe!S 


[53[S1235.5jSI£S35-SSJOyLg 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


c 


HE  close  of  the  day  is  in  the  regions 
of  the  torrid  zone  the  only  season  of 
diversion  and  entertainment,  and  it 
was  therefore  midnight  before  the 
music  ceased  and  the  princesses  retired.  Ras- 
selas  then  called  for  his  companion,  and  required 
him  to  begin  the  story  of  his  life. 

"  Sir,"  said  Imlac,  "  my  history  will  not  be 
long  :  the  life  that  is  devoted  to  knowledge  passes 
silently  away,  and  is  very  little  diversified  by 
events.  To  talk  in  public,  to  think  in  solitude, 
to  read  and  to  hear,  to  inquire  and  answer  in- 
quiries, is  the  business  of  a  scholar.  He  wanders 
about  the  world  without  pomp  or  terror,  and  is 
neither  known  nor  valued  but  by  men  like  himself. 
"  I  was  born  in  the  kingdom  of  Goiama,  at  no 
great  distance  from  the  fountain  of  the  Nile.  My 
father  was  a  wealthy  merchant,  who  traded  be- 


AN  INDULGENT  FATHER.  39 

tween  the  inland  countries  of  Afric  and  the  ports 
of  the  Red  Sea.  He  was  honest,  frugal,  and 
diligent,  but  of  mean  sentiments  and  narrow  com- 
prehension ;  he  desired  only  to  be  rich,  and  to 
conceal  his  riches,  lest  he  should  be  spoiled  by 
the  governors  of  the  province." 

"  Surely,"  said  the  prince,  "my  father  must  be 
negligent  of  his  charge,  if  any  man  in  his  domin- 
ions dares  take  that  which  belongs  to  another. 
Does  he  not  know  that  kings  are  accountable  for 
injustice  permitted  as  well  as  done  ?  If  I  were 
emperor,  not  the  meanest  of  my  subjects  should 
be  oppressed  with  impunity.  My  blood  boils 
when  I  am  told  that  a  merchant  durst  not  enjoy 
his  honest  gains,  for  fear  of  losing  them  by  the 
rapacity  of  power.  Name  the  governor  who 
robbed  the  people,  that  I  may  declare  his  crimes 
to  the  emperor." 

"Sir,"  said  Imlac,  "your  ardor  is  the  natural 
effect  of  virtue,  animated  by  youth ;  the  time  will 
come  when  you  will  acquit  your  father,  and  per- 
haps hear  with  less  impatience  of  the  governor. 
Oppression  is,  in  the  Abyssinian  dominions, 
neither  frequent  nor  tolerated  ;  but  no  form  of 
government  has  yet  been  discovered  by  which 
cruelty  can  be  wholly  prevented.  Subordination 
supposes  power  on  one  part,  and  subjection  on 
the  other ;  and,  if  power  be  in  the  hands  of  men, 
it  will  sometimes  be  abused.  The  vigilance  of 
the  supreme  magistrate  may  do  much,  but  much 


4o 


RASSELAS. 


will  still  remain  undone.  He  can  never  know  all 
the  crimes  that  are  committed,  and  can  seldom 
punish  all  that  he  knows." 

"  This,"  said  the  prince,  "  I  do  not  understand, 
but  I  had  rather  hear  thee  than  dispute.  Con- 
tinue thy  narration." 

"  My  father,"  proceeded  Imlac,  "  originally 
intended  that  I  should  have  no  other  education 
J  than  such  as  might  qualify  me  for  commerce ; 
and,  discovering  in  me  great  strength  of  memory 
and  quickness  of  apprehension,  often  declared  his 
hope  that  I  should  be  some  time  the  richest  man 
in  Abyssinia." 

"  Why,"  said  the  prince,  "  did  thy  father  desire 
the  increase  of  his  wealth,  when  it  was  already 
greater  than  he  durst  discover  or  enjoy?  I  am 
unwilling  to  doubt  thy  veracity,  yet  inconsisten- 
cies cannot  both  be  true." 

"Inconsistencies,"  answered  Imlac,  "cannot 
both  be  right,  but,  imputed  to  man,  they  may 
both  be  true.  Yet  diversity  is  not  inconsistency. 
My  father  might  expect  a  time  of  great  security. 
However,  some  desire  is  necessary  to  keep  life  in 
motion,  and  he  whose  real  wants  are  supplied, 
must  admit  those  of  fancy." 

"This,"  said  the  prince,  "I  can  in  some 
measure  conceive.  I  repent  that  I  interrupted 
thee." 

"With  this  hope,"  proceeded  Imlac,  "he  sent 
me  to  school ;  but  when  I  had  once  found  the 


JMLACS    TRAVELS.  41 

delight  of  knowledge  and  felt  the  pleasure  of 
intelligence  and  the  pride  of  invention,  I  began 
silently  to  despise  riches,  and  determined  to  dis- 
appoint the  purpose  of  my  father,  whose  grossness 
of  conception  raised  my  pity.  I  was  twenty  years 
old  before  his  tenderness  would  expose  me  to  the 
fatigue  of  travel,  in  which  time  I  had  been  in- 
structed by  successive  masters  in  all  the  literature 
of  my  native  country.  As  every  hour  taught  me 
something  new,  I  lived  in  a  continual  course  of 
gratifications ;  but,  as  I  advanced  towards  man- 
hood, I  lost  much  of  the  reverence  with  which  I 
had  been  used  to  look  on  my  instructors,  be- 
cause when  the  lesson  was  ended,  I  did  not  find 
them  wiser  or  better  than  common  men. 

"  At  length  my  father  resolved  to  initiate  me 
in  commerce,  and,  opening  one  of  his  subter- 
ranean treasuries,  counted  out  ten  thousand  O 
pieces  of  gold.  '  This,  young  man,'  said  he, 
'  is  the  stock  with  which  you  must  negotiate.  I 
began  with  less  than  the  fifth  part,  and  you  see 
how  diligence  and  parsimony  have  increased  it. 
This  is  your  own  to  waste  or  to  improve.  If  you 
squander  it  by  negligence  or  caprice,  you  must 
wait  for  my  death  before  you  will  be  rich  ;  if,  in 
four  years,  you  double  your  stock,  we  will  hence- 
forward let  subordination  cease,  and  live  together 
as  friends  and  partners ;  for  he  shall  always  be 
equal  with  me,  who  is  equally  skilled  in  the  art  of 
growing  rich.' 


42  RASSELAS. 

4 

"  We  laid  our  money  upon  camels,  concealed 
in  bales  of  cheap  goods,  and  travelled  to  the 
shore  of  the  Red  Sea.  When  I  cast  my  eye  on 
the  expanse  of  waters,  my  heart  bounded  like  that 
of  a  prisoner  escaped.  I  felt  an  inextinguishable 
curiosity  kindled  in  my  mind,  and  resolved  to 
snatch  this  opportunity  of  seeing  the  manners  of 
other  nations,  and  of  learning  sciences  unknown 
in  Abyssinia. 

"  I  remembered  that  my  father  had  obliged  me 
to  the  improvement  of  my  stock,  not  by  a  prom- 
ise which  I  ought  not  to  violate,  but  by  a  penalty 
which  I  was  at  liberty  to  incur ;  and  therefore 
determined  to  gratify  my  predominant  desire,  and 
by  drinking  at  the  fountains  of  knowledge,  to 
quench  the  thirst  of  curiosity. 

"  As  I  was  supposed  to  trade  without  connec- 
tion with  my  father,  it  was  easy  for  me  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  master  of  a  ship,  and  procure 
a  passage  to  some  other  country.  I  had  no 
motives  of  choice  to  regulate  my  voyage  ;  it  was 
sufficient  for  me  that,  wherever  I  wandered,  I 
should  see  a  country  which  I  had  not  seen 
before.  I  therefore  entered  a  ship  bound  for 
Surat,  having  left  a  letter  for  my  father,  declaring 
my   intention." 


CHAPTER  IX. 


, 


THE    HISTORY    OF    IMLAC    CONTINUED. 

HEN  I  first  entered  upon  the  world  of 
waters  and  lost  sight  of  land,  I  looked 
round  about  me  with  pleasing  terror, 
and  thinking  my  soul  enlarged  by  the 
boundless  prospect,  imagined  that  I  could  gaze 
round  forever  without  satiety;  but,  in  a  short 
time,  I  grew  weary  of  looking  on  barren  uni- 
formity, where  I  could  only  see  again  what  I  had 
already  seen.  I  then  descended  into  the  ship, 
and  doubted  for  a  while  whether  all  my  future 
pleasures  would  not  end  like  this  in  disgust  and 
disappointment.  Yet,  surely,  said  I,  the  ocean 
and  the  land  are  very  different ;  the  only  variety  of 
water  is  rest  and  motion,  but  the  earth  has  moun- 
tains and  valleys,  deserts  and  cities;  it  is  in- 
habited by  men  of  different  customs  and  contrary 
opinions ;  and  I  may  hope  to  find  variety  in  life, 
though  I  should  miss  it  in  Nature. 

"With  this  thought  I  quieted  my  mind,   and 
amused  myself  during  the  voyage,  sometimes  by 


f 


44  RASSELAS. 

learning  from  the  sailors  the  art  of  navigation, 
which  I  have  never  practised,  and  sometimes  by 
forming  schemes  for  my  conduct  in  different 
situations,  in  not  one  of  which  I  have  been  ever 
placed. 

"  I  was  almost  weary  of  my  naval  amusements 
when  we  landed  safely  at  Surat.  I  secured  my 
money,  and,  purchasing  some  commodities  for 
show,  joined  myself  to  a  caravan  that  was  passing 
into  the  inland  country.  My  companions,  for 
some  reason  or  other  conjecturing  that  I  was 
rich  and,  by  my  inquiries  and  admiration,  find- 
ing that  I  was  ignorant,  considered  me  as  a  novice 
whom  they  had  a  right  to  cheat,  and  who  was  to 
learn  at  the  usual  expense  the  art  of  fraud. 
They  exposed  me  to  the  thefts  of  servants  and 
the  exaction  of  officers,  and  saw  me  plundered 
upon  false  pretences,  without  any  advantage  to 
themselves  but  that  of  rejoicing  in  the  superiority 
of  their  own  knowledge." 

"  Stop  a  moment,"  said  the  prince.  "  Is  there 
such  depravity  in  man,  as  that  he  should  injure 
another  without  benefit  to  himself  ?  I  can  easily 
conceive  that  all  are  pleased  with  superiority ;  but 
your  ignorance  was  merely  accidental,  which,  be- 
ing neither  your  crime  nor  your  folly,  could  afford 
them  no  reason  to  applaud  themselves ;  and  the 
knowledge  which  they  had  and  which  you  wanted, 
they  might  as  effectually  have  shown  by  warning 
as  betraying  you." 


MEAN  PRIDE.  45 

"Pride,"  said  Imlac,  "is  seldom  delicate,  it 
will  please  itself  with  very  mean  advantages  ;  and 
envy  feels  not  its  own  happiness,  but  when  it  may 
be  compared  with  the  misery  of  others.  ^TrTey 
were  my  enemies  because  they  grieved  to  think 
me  rich,  and  my  oppressors  because  they  de- 
lighted to  find  me  weak." 

"  Proceed,"  said  the  prince  ;  "  I  doubt  not  of 
the  facts  which  you  relate,  but  imagine  that  you 
impute  them  to  mistaken   motives." 

"  In  this  company,"  said  Imlac,  "  I  arrived  at 
Agra,  the  capital  of  Indostan,  the  city  in  which 
the  great  Mogul  commonly  resides.  I  applied  O 
myself  to  the  language  of  the  country,  and  in  a 
few  months  was  able  to  converse  with  the  learned 
men,  some  of  whom  I  found  morose  and  reserved, 
and  others  easy  and  communicative ;  some  were 
unwilling  to  teach  another  what  they  had  with 
difficulty  learned  themselves ;  and  some  showed 
that  the  end  of  their  studies  was  to  gain  the  dig- 
nity of  instructing. 

"To  the  tutor  of  the  young  princes  I  recom- 
mended myself  so  much,  that  I  was  presented  to 
the  emperor  as  a  man  of  uncommon  knowledge. 
The  emperor  asked  me  many  questions  concern- 
ing my  country  and  my  travels ;  and  though  I 
cannot  now  recollect  anything  that  he  uttered 
above  the  power  of  a  common  man,  he  dismissed 
me  astonished  at  his  wisdom,  and  enamored  of 
his  goodness. 


46  RASSELAS. 

"  My  credit  was  now  so  high  that  the  mer- 
chants with  whom  I  had  travelled  applied  to  me 
for  recommendations  to  the  ladies  of  the  court. 
I  was  surprised  at  their  confidence  of  solicitation, 
and  gently  reproached  them  with  their  practices 
on  the  road.  They  heard  me  with  cool  indiffer- 
ence, and  showed  no  tokens  of  shame  or  sorrow. 

"  They  then  urged  their  request  with  the  offer 
of  a  bribe  ;  but  what  I  would  not  do  for  kindness, 
I  would  not  do  for  money,  and  refused  them,  not 
because  they  had  injured  me,  but  because  I  would 
not  enable  them  to  injure  others  ;  for  I  knew  they 
would  have  made  use  of  my  credit  to  cheat  those 
who  should  buy  their  wares. 

"  Having  resided  at  Agra  till  there  was  no 
T««i*»«/,"rnore  to  be  learned,  I  travelled  into  Persia,  where 
I  saw  many  remains  of  ancient  magnificence,  and 
observed  many  new  accommodations  of  life.  The 
Persians  are  a  nation  eminently  social,  and  their 
assemblies  afforded  me  daily  opportunities  of  re- 
marking characters  and  manners,  and  of  tracing 
human  nature  through  all  its  variations. 

"  From  Persia  I  passed  into  Arabia,  where  I 
saw  a  nation  at  once  pastoral  and  warlike,  who 
live  without  any  settled  habitation,  whose  only 
wealth  is  their  flocks  and  herds,  and  who  have  yet 
carried  on  through  all  ages  an  hereditary  war  with 
all  mankind,  though  they  neither  covet  nor  envy 
their  possessions." 


.  CHAPTER   X. 

LMLAC'S   HISTORY   CONTINUED.      A   DISSERTATION 
UPON   POETRY. 


HEREVER  I  went,  I  found  that  poetry 
was  considered  as  the  highest  learn- 
ing, and  regarded  with  a  veneration 
somewhat  approaching  to  that  which 
man  would  pay  to  the  Angelic  Nature.  And  yet 
it  fills  me  with  wonder  that,  in  almost  all  coun- 
tries, the  most  ancient  poets  are  considered  as 
the  best,  —  whether  it  be  that  every  other  kind  of 
knowledge  is  an  acquisition  gradually  attained, 
and  poetry  is  a  gift  conferred  at  once ;  or  that 
the  first  poetry  of  every  nation  surprised  them  as 
a  novelty,  and  retained  the  credit  by  consent 
which  it  received  by  accident  at  first ;  or  whether, 
as  the  province  of  poetry  is  to  describe  N_ature 
and  passion  which  are  always  the  same,  the  first 
writers  took  possession  of  the  most  striking  objects 
for  description  and  the  most  probable  occurrences 
for  fiction,  and  left  nothing  to  those  that  followed 
them  but  transcription  of  the  same  events  and 
new  combinations  of  the  same  images.     Whatever 


48  RASSELAS. 

be  the  reason,  it  is  commonly  observed  that  the 
early  writers  are  in  possession  of  Nature,  and  their 
followers  of  art ;  that  the  first  excel  in  strength 
and  invention,  and  the  latter  in  elegance  and 
refinement. 

"  I  was  desirous  to  add  my  name  to  this  illus- 
trious fraternity.  I  read  all  the  poets  of  Persia 
and  Arabia,  and  was  able  to  repeat  by  memory 
the  volumes  that  are  suspended  in  the  mosque  of 
Mecca ;  but  I  soon  found  that  no  man  was  ever 
great  by  imitation.  My  desire"  Of  excellence  1111- 
pelled  me  to  transfer  my  attention  to  Nature  and 
to  life.  Nature  was  to  be  my  subject,  and  men  to 
be  my  auditors ;  I  could  never  describe  what  I 
had  not  seeri ;  I  could  not  hope  to  move  those 
with  delight  or  terror  whose  interests  and  opinions 
I  did  not  understand. 

"  Being  now  resolved  to  be  a  poet,  I  saw  every- 
thing with  a  new  purpose  ;  my  sphere  of  attention 
was  suddenly  magnified ;  no  kind  of  knowledge 
was  to  be  overlooked.  I  ranged  the  mountains 
and  deserts  for  images  and  resemblances,  and 
pictured  upon  my  mind  every  tree  of  the  forest 
and  flower  of  the  valley.  I  observed  with  equal 
care  the  crags  of  the  rock  and  the  pinnacles  of 
the  palace.  Sometimes  I  wandered  along  the 
mazes  of  the  rivulet,  and  sometimes  watched  the 
changes  of  the  summer  clouds.  To  a  poet  noth- 
ing can  be  useless.  Whatever  is  beautiful,  and 
whatever  is  dreadful,  must  be  familiar  to  his  im- 


THE  POET.  49 

agination ;  he  must  be  conversant  with  all  that  is 
awfully  vast  or  elegantly  little.  The  plants  of  the 
garden,  the  animals  of  the  wood,  the  minerals  of 
the  earth,  and  meteors  of  the  sky,  must  all  concur 
to  store  his  mind  with  inexhaustible  variety ;  for 
every  idea  is  useful  for  the  enforcement  or  deco- 
ration of  moral  or  religious  truth ;  and  he  who 
knows  most  will  have  most  power  of  diversifying 
his  scenes,  and  of  gratifying  his  reader  with  re- 
mote allusions  and  unexpected  instruction. 

"  All  the  appearances  of  Nature  I  was  therefore 
careful  to  study ;  and  every  country  which  I  have 
surveyed  has  contributed  something  to  my  poetical 
powers." 

"  In  so  wide  a  survey,"  said  the  prince,  "  you 
must  surely  have  left  much  unobserved.  I  have 
lived  till  now  within  the  circuit  of  these  moun- 
tains, and  yet  cannot  walk  abroad  without  the 
sight  of  something  which  I  had  never  beheld 
before,   or  never  heeded." 

"The  business  of  a  poet,"  said  Imlac,  "is  to 
examine  not  the  individual,  but  the  species,  to 
remark  general  properties  and  large  appearances ; 
he  does  not  number  the  streaks  of  the  tulip,  or 
describe  the  different  shades  in  the  verdure  of  the 
forest.  He  is  to  exhibit  in  his  portraits  of  Nature 
such  prominent  and  striking  features  as  recall  the 
original  to  every  mini,  and  must  neglect  the 
minuter  d;"^nminations  —  which  one  may  have 
remarked,  and  another  have  neglected  —  for  those 

4 


50  RASSELAS. 

characteristics  which  are  alike  obvious  to  vigilance 
and  carelessness. 

"  But  the  knowledge  of  Nature  is  only  half  the 
task  of  a  poet ;  he  must  be  acquainted  likewise 
with  all  the  modes  of  life.  His  character  requires 
that  he  estimate  the  happiness  and  misery  of  every 
condition,  observe  the  power  of  all  the  passions 
in  all  their  combinations,  and  trace  the  changes 
of  the  human  mind  as  they  are  modified  by  various 
institutions  and  accidental  influences  of  climate  or 
custom,  from  the  sprightliness  of  infancy  to  the 
despondence  of  decrepitude.  He  must  divest 
himself  of  the  prejudices  of  his  age  or  country ; 
he  must  consider  right  and  wrong  in  their  ab- 
stracted and  invariable  state ;  he  must  disregard 
present  laws  and  opinions,  and  rise  to  general  and 
^transcendental  truths,  which  will  always  be  the 
same ;  he  must,  therefore,  content  himself  with 
the  slow  progress  of  his  name,  contemn  the  ap- 
plause of  his  own  time,  and  commit  his  claims  to 
the  justice  of  posterity.  He  must  write  as  the  in- 
terpreter of  nature  and  the  legislator  of  mankind, 
and  consider  himself  as  presiding  over  the  thoughts 
and  manners  of  future  generations,  as  a  being  su- 
perior to  time  and  place. 

"  His  labor  is  not  yet  at  an  end  ;  he  must  know 
many  languages  and  many  sciences ;  and,  that 
his  style  may  be  worthy  of  his  thoughts,  must  by 
incessant  practice  familiarize  to  fnoself  every 
delicacy  of  speech  and  grace  of  harmon^." 


CHAPTER  XI. 


IMLAC'S  ^NARRATIVE   CONTINUED.      A   HINT   ON 
PILGRIMAGE. 


JMLAC  now  felt  the  enthusiastic  fit,  and 
was  proceeding  to  aggrandize  his  own 
profession,  when  the  prince  cried  out, 
"  Enough  !  thou  hast  convinced  me 
that  no  human  being  can  ever  be  a  poet.  Pro- 
ceed with  thy  narration." 

"To  be  a  poet,"  said  Imlac,  "is  indeed  very 
difficult." 

"  So  difficult,"  returned  the  prince,  "  that  I  will 
at  present  hear  no  more  of  his  labors.  Tell  me 
whither  you  went  when  you  had  seen  Persia." 

"  From  Persia,"  said  the  poet,  "  I  travelled 
through  Syria,  and  for  three  years  resided  in 
Palestine,  where  I  conversed  with  great  numbers 
of  the  northern  and  western  nations  of  Europe,  — 
the  nations  which  are  now  in  possession  of  all 
power  and  all  knowledge,  whose  armies  are  irre- 
sistible, and  whose  fleets  command  the  remotest 
parts  of  the  globe.     When  I  compared  these  men 


P^ 


5  2  RASSELAS. 

with  the  natives  of  our  own  kingdom,  and  those 
that  surround  us,  they  appeared  almost  another 
order  of  beings.  In  their  countries  it  is  difficult 
to  wish  for  anything  that  may  not  be  obtained ; 
a  thousand  arts  of  which  we  never  heard,  are  con- 
tinually laboring  for  their  convenience  and  pleas- 
ure ;  and  whatever  their  own  climate  has  denied 
them,  is  supplied  by  their  commerce." 

"  By  what  means,"  said  the  prince,  "  are  the 
Europeans  thus  powerful ;  or  why,  since  they  can 
so  easily  visit  Asia  and  Africa  for  trade  or  con- 
quest, cannot  the  Asiatics  and  Africans  invade 
their  coasts,  plant  colonies  in  their  ports,  and  give 
laws  to  their  natural  princes?  The  same  wind 
that  carries  them  back  would  bring  us  thither." 

"They  are  more  powerful,  sir,  than  we,"  an- 
swered Imlac,  "  because  they  are  wiser.  Knowl- 
edge  will  always  predominate  over  ignorance,  as 
man  governs  the  other  animals.  But  why  their 
knowledge  is  more  than  ours,  I  know  not  what 
reason  can  be  given  but  the  unsearchable  will  of 
he  Supreme  "Being." 

"  When,"  said  the  prince,  with  a  sigh,  "  shall 
1  be  able  to  visit  Palestine,  and  mingle  with  this 
mighty  confluence  of  nations?  Till  that  happy 
moment  shall  arrive,  let  me  fill  up  the  time  with 
such  representations  as  thou  canst  give  me.  I 
am  not  ignorant  of  the  motive  that  assembles 
such  numbers  in  that  place,  and  cannot  but  con- 
sider it  as  the  centre  of  wisdom  and  piety,  to 


THE  EUROPEANS.  53 

which  the  best  and  wisest  men  of  every  land  must 
be  continually  resorting." 

"  There  are  some  nations,"  said  Imlac,  "  that 
send  few  visitants  to  Palestine  ;  for  many  numer- 
ous and  learned  sects  in  Europe  concur  to  censure 
pilgrimage  as  superstitious,  or  deride  it  as  ri- 
diculous." 

"  You  know,"  said  the  prince,  "  how  little  my 
life  has  made  me  acquainted  with  diversity  of 
opinions.  It  will  be  too  long  to  hear  the  argu- 
ments on  both  sides ;  you  that  have  considered 
them  tell  me  the  result." 

"  Pilgrimage,"  said  Imlac,  "  like  many  other 
acts  of  piety,  may  be  reasonable  or  superstitious 
according  to  the  principles  upon  which  it  is  per- 
formed.    Long  journeys   in  search  of  truth  are 

not  commanded.     Truth,  such  as  is  necessary  to \ 

the  regulation  of  life7"is~al\vays  found  where  it  is 
honestly  sought.  Change  of  place  is  no  natural 
cause  of  the  increase  of  piety,  for  it  inevitably 
produces  dissipation  of  mind.  Yet,  since  men 
go  every  day  to  view  the  fields  where  great  actions 
have  been  performed,  and  return  with  stronger 
impressions  of  the  event,  curiosity  of  the  same 
kind  may  naturally  dispose  us  to  view  that  coun- 
try whence  our  religion  had  its  beginning ;  and  I 
believe  no  man  surveys  those  awful  scenes  with- 
out some  confirmation  of  holy  resolutions.  That 
the  Supreme  Being  may  be  more  easily  propitiated 
in  one  place  than   in   another,   is  the  dream  of 


54  RASSELAS. 

idle  superstition  ;  but  that  some  places  may  ope-g 
rate  upon  our  own  minds  in  an  uncommon  man-  i 
ner,  is  an  opinion  which  hourly  experience  will 
justify.  He  who  supposes  that  his  vices  may  be 
more  successfully  combated  in  Palestine,  will, 
perhaps,  find  himself  mistaken ;  yet  he  may  go 
thither  without  folly  :  he  who  thinks  they  will  be 
more  freely  pardoned,  dishonors  at  once  his  rea- 
son and  religion." 

"  These,"  said  the  prince,  "  are  European  dis- 
tinctions. I  will  consider  them  another  time. 
What  have  you  found  to  be  the  effect  of  knowl- 
edge?    Are  those  nations  happier  than  we?  " 

"There  is  so  much  infelicity,"  said  the  poet, 
"  in  the  world  that  scarce  any  man  has  leisure 
from  his  own  distresses  to  estimate  the  compara-  . 
tive  happiness  of  others.  Knowledge  is  certainly 
one  of  the  means  of  pleasure,  as  is  confessed  by 
the  natural  desire  which  every  mind  feels  of  in- 
creasing its  ideas.  Ignorance  is  mere  privation 
by  which  nothing  can  be  produced ;  it  is  a  vacuity 
in  which  the  soul  sits  motionless  and  torpid  for 
want  of  attraction ;  and^without  knowing  why, 
we  always  rejoice  when  we  learn,  and  grieve  when 
we  forget.  I  am  therefore  inclined  to  conclude, 
that  if  nothing  counteracts  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  learning,  we  grow  more  happy  as  our 
minds  take  a  wider  range. 

"In  enumerating  the  particular  comforts  of 
life,  we  shall  find  many  advantages  on  the  side  of 


RELATIVE  HAPPINESS.  55 

the  Europeans.  They  cure  wounds  and  diseases 
with  which  we  languish  and  perish.  We  suffer 
inclemencies  of  weather  which  they  can  obviate. 
They  have  engines  for  the  despatch  of  many 
laborious  works,  which  we  must  perform  by  manual 
industry.  There  is  such  communication  between 
distant  places  that  one  friend  can  hardly  be  said 
to  be  absent  from  another.  Their  policy  removes 
all  public  inconveniences :  they  have  roads  cut 
through  their  mountains,  and  bridges  laid  upon 
their  rivers.  And,  if  we  descend  to  the  privacies 
of  life,  their  habitations  are  more  commodious, 
and  their  possessions  are  more  secure." 

"  They  are  surely  happy,"  said  the  prince, 
"  who  have  all  these  conveniences,  of  which  I 
envy  none  so  much  as  the  facility  with  which 
separated  friends  interchange  their  thoughts." 

"The  Europeans,"  answered  Imlac,  "are  less 
unhappy  than  we,  but  they  are  not  happy.  Hu- 
man life  is  everywhere  a  state  in  which  much  is  to 
be  endured,  and  little  to  be  enjoyed." 


» •■'• 


CHAPTER   XII. 


THE    STORY    OF    IMLAC    CONTINUED. 

|  AM  not  yet  willing,"  said  the  prince, 
"  to  suppose  that  happiness  is  so 
parsimoniously  distributed  to  mortals  ; 
nor  can  believe  but  that]  if  I  had  the 
choice  of  life,  I  should  be  able  to  fill  every  day 
with  pleasure.  I  would  injure  no  man,  and  should 
provoke  no  resentment.  I  would  relieve  every  dis- 
tress and  should  enjoy  the  benedictions  of  grati- 
tude. I  would  choose  my  friends  among  the  wise, 
and  my  wife  among  the  virtuous,  and  therefore 
should  be  in  no  danger  from  treachery  or  unkind- 
ness.  My  children  should,  by  my  care,  be  learned 
and  pious,  and  would  repay  to  my  age  what  their 
childhood  had  received.  What  would  dare  to 
molest  him  who  might  call  on  every  side  to 
thousands  enriched  by  his  bounty,  or  assisted  by 
his  power?  And  why  should  not  life  glide  quietly 
away  in  the  soft  reciprocation  of  protection  and 
reverence?  All  this  may  be  done  without  the 
help  of  European  refinements,  which  appear  by 


IMLACS    TRAVELS.  57 

their  effects  to  be   rather  specious  than  useful. 
Let  us  leave  them  and  pursue  our  journey." 

"  From  Palestine,"  said  Imlac,  "  I  passed  1/ 
through  many  regions  of  Asia,  in  the  more  civi- 
lized kingdoms  as  a  trader,  and  among  the  bar- 
barians of  the  mountains  as  a  pilgrim.  At  last  I 
began  to  long  for  my  native  country,  that  I  might 
repose  after  my  travels  and  fatigues  in  the  places 
where  I  had  spent  my  earliest  years,  and  gladden 
my  old  companions  with  the  recital  of  my  ad- 
ventures. Often  did  I  figure  to  myself  those  with 
whom  I  had  sported  away  the  gay  hours  of  dawn- 
ing life,  sitting  round  me  in  its  evening,  wonder- 
ing at  my  tales,  and  listening  to  my  counsels. 

"When  this  thought  had  taken  possession  of 
my  mind,  I  considered  every  moment  as  wasted 
which  did  not  bring  me  nearer  to  Abyssinia.  I 
hastened  into  Egypt,  and,  notwithstanding  my 
impatience,  was  detained  ten  months  in  the  con- 
templation of  its  ancient  magnificence,  and  in 
inquiries  after  the  remains  of  its  ancient  learning. 
I  found  in  Cairo  a  mixture  of  all  nations,  —  some 
brought  thither  by  the  love  of  knowledge,  some 
by  the  hope  of  gain,  and  many  by  the  desire  of 
living  after  their  own  manner  without  observation, 
and  of  lying  hid  in  the  obscurity  of  multitudes ; 
for  in  a  city  populous  as  Cairo,  it  is  possible  to 
obtain  at  the  same  time  the  gratifications  of 
society  and  the  secrecy  of  solitude. 

"  From  Cairo  I  travelled  to  Suez,  and  embarked 


58  RASSELAS. 

on  the  Red  Sea,  passing  along  the  coast  till  I  ar- 
rived at  the  port  from  which  I  had  departed 
twenty  years  before.  Here  I  joined  myself  to  a 
caravan,  and  re-entered  my  native  country. 

"  I  now  expected  the  caresses  of  my  kinsmen 
and  the  congratulations  of  my  friends,  and  was 
not  without  hope  that  my  father,  whatever  value 
he  had  set  upon  riches,  would  own  with  gladness 
and  pride  a  son  who  was  able  to  add  to  the 
felicity  and  honor  of  the  nation.  But  I  was  soon 
convinced  that  my  thoughts  were  vain.  My  father 
had  been  dead  fourteen  years,  having  divided  his 
wealth  among  my  brothers,  who  were  removed  to 
some  other  provinces.  Of  my  companions  the 
greater  part  was  in  the  grave  ;  of  the  rest,  some 
could  with  difficulty  remember  me,  and  some 
I  considered  me  as  one  corrupted  by  foreign 
•manners. 

"  A  man  used  to  vicissitudes  is  not  easily  de- 
jected. I  forgot,  after  a  time,  my  disappointment, 
and  endeavored  to  recommend  myself  to  the 
nobles  of  the  kingdom  ;  they  admitted  me  to 
their  tables,  heard  my  story  and  dismissed  me. 
I  opened  a  school,  and  was  prohibited  to  teach. 
I  then  resolved  to  sit  down  in  the  quiet  of  do- 
mestic life,  and  addressed  a  lady  that  was  fond  of 
my  conversation  but  rejected  my  suit  because  my 
father  was  a  merchant. 

"  Wearied  at  last  with  solicitation  and  repulses, 
I  resolved  to  hide  myself  forever  from  the  world, 


MEDITATED  ESCAPE.  59 

and  depend  no  longer  on  the  opinion  and  caprice 
of  others.  I  waited  for  the  time  when  the  gate 
of  the  Happy  Valley  should  open,  that  I  might 
bid  farewell  to  hope  and  fear ;  the  day  came  ; 
my  performance  was  distinguished  with  favor,  and 
I  resigned  myself  with  joy  to  perpetual  con- 
finement." 

"Hast  thou  here  found  happiness  at  last?" 
said  Rasselas.  "  Tell  me  without  reserve ;  art 
thou  content  with  thy  condition,  or  dost  thou 
wish  to  be  again  wandering  and  inquiring  ?  All 
the  inhabitants  of  this  Valley  celebrate  their  lot, 
and,  at  the  annual  visit  of  the  emperor,  invite 
others  to  partake  of  their  felicity." 

"  Great  prince,"  said  Imlac,  "  I  shall  speak  the 
truth.  I  know  not  one  of  all  your  attendants  who 
does  not  lament  the  hour  when  he  entered  this 
retreat.  I  am  less  unhappy  than  the  rest,  because 
I  have  a  mind  replete  with  images,  which  I  can 
vary  and  combine  at  pleasure.  I  can  amuse  my 
solitude  by  the  renovation  of  the  knowledge  which 
begins  to  fade  from  my  memory,  and  by  recollec- 
tion of  the  incidents  of  my  past  life.  Yet  all  this 
ends  in  the  sorrowful  consideration  that  my 
acquirements  are  now  useless,  and  that  none  of  my 
pleasures  can  be  again  enjoyed.  The  rest,  whose 
minds  have  no  impression  but  of  the  present 
moment,  are  either  corroded  by  malignant  pas- 
sions or  sit  stupid  in  the  gloom  of  perpetual 
vacancy." 


V 


60  KASSELAS. 

"What  passions  can  infest  those,"  said  the 
prince,  "who  have  no  rivals?  We  are  in  a  place 
where  impotence  precludes  malice,  and  where  all 
envy  is  repressed  by  community  of  enjoyments." 

"  There  may  be  community,"  said  Imlac,  "  of 
]  material  possessions,  but  there  can  never  be  cora- 
i  fnttnity  of  love  or  ol  esteem.  It  must  happen  that 
one  will  please  more  than  another.  He  that  knows 
himself  despised  will  always  be  envious,  and  still 
more  envious  and  malevolent,  if  he  is  condemned 
to  live  in  the  presence  of  those  who  despise  him. 
The  invitations  by  which  they  allure  others  to  a 
state  which  they  feel  to  be  wretched,  proceed 
from  the  natural  malignity  of  hopeless  misery. 
They  are  weary  of  themselves  and  of  each  other, 
and  expect  to  find  relief  in  new  companions. 
They  envy  the  liberty  which  their  folly  has  for- 
feited, and  would  gladly  see  all  mankind  impris- 
oned like  themselves. 

"  From  this  crime,  however,  I  am  wholly  free. 
No  man  can  say  that  he  is  wretched  by  my  per- 
suasion. I  look  with  pity  on  the  crowds  who  are 
annually  soliciting  admission  to  captivity,  and  wish 
that  it  were  lawful  for  me  to  warn  them  of  their 
danger." 

"  My  dear  Imlac,"  said  the  prince,  "  I  will  open 
to  thee  my  whole  heart.  I  have  long  meditated 
an  escape  from  the  Happy  Valley.  I  have  exam- 
ined the  mountains  on  every  side,  but  find  myself 
insuperably  barred.    Teach  me  the  way  to  break 


MEDITATED  ESCAPE.  6 1 

my  prison ;  thou  shalt  be  the  companion  of  my 
flight,  the  guide  of  my  rambles,  the  partner  of 
my  fortune,  and  my  sole  director  in  the  choice  of 
life." 

"  Sir,"  answered  the  poet,  "  your  escape  will  be 
difficult,  and,  perhaps,  you  may  soon  repent  your 
curiosity.  The  world,  which  you  figure  to  your- 
self smooth  and  quiet  as  the  lake  in  the  Valley, 
you  will  find  a  sea  foaming  with  tempests  and 
boiling  with  whirlpools.  You  will  be  sometimes 
overwhelmed  by  the  waves  of  violence,  and  some- 
times dashed  against  the  rocks  of  treachery. 
Amidst  wrongs  and  frauds,  competitions  and  anx- 
ieties, vou  will  wish  a  thousand  times  for  those 
seats  of  quiet,  and  willingly  quit  hope  to  be  free 
from  fear." 

"  Do  not  seek  to  deter  me  from  my  purpose," 
said  the  prince.  "  I  am  impatient  to  see  what 
thou  hast  seen ;  and,  since  thou  art  thyself  weary 
of  the  Valley,  it  is  evident  that  thy  former  state 
was  better  than  this.  Whatever  be  the  conse- 
quence of  my  experiment/I  am  resolved  to  judge 
with  mine  own  eyes  of  the  various  conditions  of  -5" "  s  ~ 
men,  and  then  to  make  deliberately  my  choice 


r 


of  life.j) 


"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Imlac,  "  you  are  hindered 
by  stronger  restraints  than  my  persuasions  ;  yet,  if 
your  determination  is  fixed,  I  do  not  counsel  you 
to  despair.  Few  things  are  impossible  to  diligence 
and  skill." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


RASSELAS    DISCOVERS   THE   MEANS    OF   ESCAPE. 


OU 


HE  prince  now  dismissed  his  favorite  to 
rest,  but  the  narrative  of  wonders  and 
novelties  filled  his  mind  with  perturba- 
tion. He,  revolved  all  that  he  had 
heard,  and  prepared  innumerable  questions  for 
the  morning. 

Much  of  his  uneasiness  was  now  removed.  He 
had  a  friend  to  whom  he  could  impart  his  thoughts, 
and  whose  experience  could  assist  him  in  his  de- 
signs. His  heart  was  no  longer  condemned  to 
swell  with  silent  vexation.  He  thought  that  even 
the  Happy  Valley  might  be  endured  with  such  a 
companion ;  and  that,  if  they  could  range  the 
world  together,  he  should  have  nothing  further  to 
desire. 

In  a  few  days  the  water  was  discharged  and  the 
ground  dried.  The  prince  and  Imlac  then  walked 
out  together  to  converse  without  the  notice  of  the 


AT   WORK.  6 


6 


rest.  The  prince,  whose  thoughts  were  always  on 
the  wing,  as  he  passed  by  the  gate,  said  with  a 
countenance  of  sorrow,  "  Why  art  thou  so  strong, 
and  why  is  man  so  weak?  " 

"Man  is  not  weak,"  answered  his  companion;. 
"knowledge  is  more  than  equivalent  to  force. 
The  master  of  mechanics  laughs  at  strength.  V 
can  burst  the  gate,  but  cannot  do  it  secretly. 
Some  other  expedient  must  be  tried." 

As  they  were  walking  on  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain, they  observed  that  the  conies,  which  the  rain 
had  driven  from  their  burrows,  had  taken  shelter 
among  the  bushes,  and  formed  holes  behind  them, 
tending  upwards  in  an  oblique  line.  "  It  has  been 
the  opinion  of  antiquity,"  said  Imlac,  "  that  hu- 
man reason  borrowed  many  arts  from  the  instinct 
of  animals  ;  let  us,  therefore,  not  think  ourselves 
degraded  by  learning  from  the  cony.  We  may 
escape  by  piercing  the  mountain  in  the  same  di- 
rection. We  will  begin  where  the  summit  hangs  ^ 
over  the  middle  part,  and  labor  upwards  till  we 
issue  up  beyond  the  prominence." 

The  eyes  of  the  prince,  when  he  heard  this  pro- 
posal, sparkled  with  joy.  The  execution  was  easy, 
and  the  success  certain. 

No  time  was  now  lost.  They  hastened  early 
in  the  morning  to  choose  a  place  proper  for  their 
mine.  They  clambered  with  great  fatigue  among 
crags  and  brambles,  and  returned  without  having 
discovered    any   part    that   favored  their  design. 


vX 


I 


64  RASSELAS. 

The  second  and  the  third  day  were  spent  in  the 
same  manner,  and  with  the  same  frustration.  But, 
on  the  fourth,  they  found  a  small  cavern,  con- 
cealed by  a  thicket,  where  they  resolved  to  make 
their  experiment. 

Imlac  procured  instruments  proper  to  hew  stone 
and  remove  earth,  and  they  fell  to  their  work  on 
the  next  day  with  more  eagerness  than  vigor. 
They  were  presently  exhausted  by  their  efforts, 
and  sat  down  to  pant  upon  the  grass.  The  prince 
for  a  moment  appeared  to  be  discouraged.  "  Sir," 
said  his  companion,  "practice  will  enable  us  to 
continue  our  labor  for  a  longer  time  ;  mark,  how- 
ever, how  far  we  have  advanced,  and  you  will  find 
that  our  toil  will  some  time  have  an  end.  Great 
works  are  performed,  not  by  strength,  but  pex=. 
severance.  Yonder  palace  was  raised  by  single 
stones,  yet  you  see  its  height  and  spaciousness. 
He  that  shall  walk  with  vigor  three  hours  a  day, 
will  pass  in  seven  years  a  space  equal  to  the  cir- 
cumference of  the  globe." 

They  returned  to  their  work  day  after  day; 
and,  in  a  short  time,  found  a  fissure  in  the  rock, 
which  enabled  them  to  pass  far  with  very  little 
obstruction.  This  Rasselas  considered  as  a  good 
omen.  "  Do  not  disturb  your  mind,"  said  Imlac, 
"with  other  hopes  or  fears  than  reason  may  sug- 
gest :  if  you  are  pleased  with  prognostics  of  good, 
you  will  be  terrified  likewise  with  tokens  of  evil, 
and  your  whole  life  will  be  a  prey  to  superstition. 


AT   WORK. 


65 


Whatever  facilitates  our  work  is  more  than  an 
omen  ;  it  is  a  cause  of  success.  This  is  one  of 
those  pleasing  surprises  which  often  happen  to 
active  resolution.  Many  things  difficult  to  design 
prove  easy  to  performance." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


O 


RASSELAS   AND   IMLAC    RECEIVE   AN   UNEXPECTED 

VISIT. 

HEY  had  now  wrought  their  way  to  the 
middle,  and  solaced  their  toil  with 
the  approach  of  liberty,  when  the 
prince,  coming  down  to  refresh  him- 
self with  air,  found  his  sister  Nekayah  standing 
before  the  mouth  of  the  cavity.  He  started  and 
stood  confused,  afraid  to  tell  his  design,  and  yet 
hopeless  to  conceal  it.  A  few  moments  deter- 
mined him  to  repose  on  her  fidelity,  and  secure 
her  secrecy  by  a  declaration  without  reserve. 

"Do  not  imagine,"  said  the  princess,  "  that  I 
came  hither  as  a  spy.  I  had  long  observed  from 
my  window  that  you  and  Imlac  directed  your 
walk  every  day  towards  the  same  point ;  but  I  did 
not  suppose  you  had  any  better  reason  for  the 
preference  than  a  cooler  shade,  or  more  fragrant 
bank,    nor   followed    you  with  any  other  design 


AN   UNEXPECTED    VISIT.  67 

than  to  partake  of  your  conversation.  Since,  then, 
not  suspicion  but  fondness  has  detected  you,  let 
me  not  lose  the  advantage  of  my  discovery.  I 
am  equally  weary  of  confinement  with  yourself, 
and  not  less  desirous  of  knowing  what  is  done  or 
suffered  in  the  world.  Permit  me  to  fly  with  you 
from  this  tasteless  tranquillity,  which  will  yet  grow 
more  loathsome  when  you  have  left  .me.  You 
may  deny  me  to  accompany  you,  but  cannot  hin- 
der me  from  following." 

The  prince,  who  loved  Nekayah  above  his 
other  sisters,  had  no  inclination  to  refuse  her  re-  uj  P 
quest,  and  grieved  that  he  had  lost  an  opportunity 
of  showing  his  confidence  by  a  voluntary  com- 
munication. It  was  therefore  agreed  that  she 
should  leave  the  valley  with  them ;  and  that,  in 
the  mean  time,  she  should  watch  lest  any  other 
straggler  should,  by  chance  or  curiosity,  follow 
them  to   the  mountain. 

At  length  their  labor  was  at  an  end  \  they  saw 
light  beyond  the  prominence,  and,  issuing  to  the 
top  of  the  mountain,  beheld  the  Nile,  yet  a  nar- 
row current,  wandering  beneath  them. 

The  prince  looked  round  with  rapture,  antici- 
pated all  the  pleasures  of  travel,  and  in  thought 
was  already  transported  beyond  his  father's  domin- 
ions. Imlac,  though  very  joyful  at  his  escape, 
had  less  expectation  of  pleasure  in  the  world, 
which  he  had  before  tried,  and  of  which  he  had 
been  weary. 


68 


RASSELAS. 


Rasselas  was  so  much  delighted  with  a  wider 
horizon,  thaT~ne  could  not  soon  be  persuaded  to 
return  into  the  Valley.  He  informed  his  sister 
that  the  way  was  open,  and  that  nothing  now  re- 
mained but  to  prepare  for  their  departure. 


CHAPTER   XV. 


THE   PRINCE   AND    PRINCESS   LEAVE   THE  VALLEY, 
AND    SEE    MANY    WONDERS. 

|]HE  prince  and  princess  had  jewels 
sufficient  to  make  them  rich  when- 
ever they  came  into  a  place  of  com- 
merce, which,  by  Imlac's  direction, 
they  might  hide  in  their  clothes ;  and,  on  the 
night  of  the  next  full  moon,  all  left  the  Valley.  V 
The  princess  was  followed  only  by  a  single  favor- 
ite, who  did  not  know  whither  she  was  going. 

They  clambered  through  the  cavity,  and  began 
to  go  down  on  the  other  side.  The  princess  and 
her  maid  turned  their  eyes  towards  every  part, 
and  seeing  nothing  to  bound  their  prospect,  con- 
sidered themselves  as  in  danger  of  being  lost  in  a 
dreary  vacuity.  They  stopped  and  trembled. 
"  I  am  almost  afraid,"  said  the  princess,  "  to  be- 
gin a  journey  of  which  I  cannot  perceive  an  end, 
and  to  venture  into  this  immense  plain,  where  I 
may  be  approached  on  every  side  by  men  whom 


70  KASSELAS. 

I  never  saw."  The  prince  felt  nearly  the  same 
emotions,  though  he  thought  it  more  manly  to 
conceal  them. 

Imlac  smiled  at  their  terrors,  and  encouraged 
them  to  proceed ;  but  the  princess  continued 
irresolute  till  she  had  been  imperceptibly  drawn 
forward  too   far  to   return. 

In  the  morning  they  found  some  shepherds  in 
the  field,  who  set  milk  and  fruits  before  them. 
The  princess  wondered  that  she  did  not  see  a 
palace  ready  for  her  reception,  and  a  table  spread 
with  delicacies ;  but,  being  faint  and  hungry,  she 
drank  the  milk  and  ate  the  fruits,  and  thought  them 
of  a  higher  flavor  than  the  products  of  the  Valley. 

They  travelled  forward  by  easy  journeys,  being 
all  unaccustomed  to  toil  or  difficulty,  and  know- 
ing that,  though  they  might  be  missed,  they  could 
not  be  pursued.  In  a  few  days  they  came  into  a 
more  populous  region,  where  Imlac  was  diverted 
Jkwith  the  admiration  which  his  companions  ex- 
pressed at  the  diversity  of  manners,  stations,  and 
employments. 

Their  dress  was  such  as  might  not  bring  upon 
them  the  suspicion  of  having  anything  to  conceal ; 
yet  the  prince,  wherever  he  came,  expected  to  be 
J  obeyed,  and  the  princess  was  frightened,  because 
those  that  came  into  her  presence  did  not  pros- 
trate themselves  before  her.  Imlac  was  forced  to 
observe  them  with  great  vigilance,  lest  they  should 
betray  their  rank  by  their  unusual  behavior,  and 


QUITTING    THE    VALLEY.  7 1 

detained  them  several  weeks  in  the  first  village,  to 
accustom  them  to  the  sight  of  common  mortals. 

By  degrees  the  royal  wanderers  were  taught  to 
understand  that  they  had  for  a  time  laid  aside 
their  dignity,  and  were  to  expect  only  such  regard 
as  liberality  and  courtesy  could  procure.  And 
Imlac  having,  by  many  admonitions,  prepared 
them  to  endure  the  tumults  of  a  port,  and  the 
ruggedness  of  the  commercial  race,  brought  them 
down  to  the  sea  coast. 

The  prince  and  his  sister,  to  whom  everything 
was  new,  were  gratified  equally  at  all  places,  and 
therefore  remained  for  some  months  at  the  port 
without  any  inclination  to  pass  further.  Imlac 
was  content  with  their  stay,  because  he  did  not 
think  it  safe  to  expose  them,  unpractised  in  the 
world,  to  the  hazards  of  a  foreign  country. 

At  last  he  began  to  fear  lest  they  should  be 
discovered,  and  proposed  to  fix  a  day  for  their 
departure.  They  had  no  pretensions  to  judge  for 
themselves,  and  referred  the  whole  scheme  to  his 
direction.  He  therefore  took  passage  in  a  ship 
to  Suez ;  and,  when  the  time  came,  with  great 
difficulty  prevailed  on  the  princess  to  enter  the 
vessel.  They  had  a  quick  and  prosperous  voy- 
age ;  and  from  Suez  travelled  by  land  to  Cairo. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THEY    ENTER    CAIRO    AND    FIND     EVERY  MAN    HAPPY. 


j^S  they  approached  the  city,  which 
rilled  the  strangers  with  astonishment, 
"This,"  said  Imlac  to  the  prince,  "is 
the  place  where  travellers  and  mer- 
chants assemble  from  all  the  comers  of  the  earth. 
You  will  here  find  men  of  every  character  and 
every  occupation.  Commerce  is  here  honorable  ; 
I  will  act  as  a  merchant,  and  you  shall  live  as 
P  strangers  who  have  no  other  end  of  travel  than 
curiosity.  It  will  soon  be  observed  that  we  are 
rich ;  our  reputation  will  procure  us  access  to  all 
whom  we  shall  desire  to  know ;  you  will  see  all 
the  conditions  of  humanity,  and  enable  yourself  at 
leisure  to  make  your  choice  of  life." 

They  now  entered  the  town,  stunned  by  the 
Q  vse  and  offended  by  the  crowd.  Instruction 
had  not  yet  so  prevailed  over  habit,  but  that  they 
wondered  to  see  themselves  pass  undistinguished 
along  the  street,  and  met  by  the  lowest  of  the 
people,  without  reverence  or  notice.     The  prin- 


AT  CAIRO.  73 

cess  could  not  at  first  bear  the  thought  of  being 
levelled  with  the  vulgar,  and  for  some  days  con- 
tinued in  her  chamber,  where  she  was  served  by  her 
favorite  Pekuah  as  in  the  palace  of  the  Valley. 

Imlac,  who  understood  traffic,  sold  part  of  the 
jewels  the  next  day,  and  hired  a  house,  which  he 
adorned  with  such  magnificence  that  he  was  im- 
mediately considered  as  a  merchant  of  great 
wealth.  His  politeness  attracted  many  acquaint- 
ance, and  his  generosity  made  him  courted  by 
many  dependants.  His  table  was  crowded  by 
men  of  every  nation,  who  all  admired  his  knowl- 
edge and  solicited  his  favor.  His  companions 
not  being  able  to  mix  in  the  conversation,  could 
make  no  discovery  of  their  ignorance  or  surprise, 
and  were  gradually  initiated  in  the  world  as  they 
gained  knowledge  of  the  language. 

The  prince  had,  by  frequent  lectures,  been 
taught  the  use  and  nature  of  money ;  but  the 
ladies  could  not  for  a  long  time  comprehend  what 
the  merchants  did  with  small  pieces  of  gold  and 
silver,  or  why  things  of  so  little  use  should  be 
received  as  equivalent  to  the  necessaries  of  life. 

They  studied  the  language  two  years,  while  Imlac  C 
was  preparing  to  set  before  them  the  various  ranks 
and  conditions  of  mankind.  He  grew  acquain 
with  all  who  had  anything  uncommon  in  their 
fortune  or  conduct.  He  frequented  the  volup- 
tuous and  the  frugal,  the  idle  and  the  busy,  the 
merchants  and  the  men  of  learning. 


74  RASSELAS. 

The  prince  being  now  able  to  converse  with 
fluency,  and  having  learned  the  caution  necessary 
to  be  observed  in  his  intercourse  with  strangers, 
began  to  accompany  Imlac  to  places  of  resort,  and 
to  enter  into  all  assemblies,  that  he  might  make 
his  choice  of  life. 

For  some  time  he  thought  choice  needless, 
because  all  appeared  to  him  equally  happy. 
Wherever  he  went  he  met  gayety  and  kindness, 
and  heard  the  song  of  joy  or  the  laugh  of  care- 
lessness. He  began  to  believe  that  the  world 
overflowed  with  universal  plenty,  and  that  nothing 
was  withheld  either  from  want  or  merit ;  that  every 
hand  showered  liberality,  and  every  heart  melted 
with  benevolence :  "  And  who  then,"  said  he, 
"will  be  suffered  to  be  wretched?" 

Imlac  permitted  the  pleasing  delusion,  and  was 
unwilling  to  crush  the  hope  of  inexperience,  till 
one  day,  having  sat  awhile  silent,  "  I  know  not," 
said  the  prince,  "  what  can  be  the  reason  that  I 
am  more  unhappy  than  any  of  our  friends.  I 
see  them  perpetually  and  unalterably  cheerful,  but 
feel  my  own  mind  restless  and  uneasy.  I  am  un- 
I  satisfied  with  those  pleasures  which  I  seem  most  to 
court.  I  live  in  the  crowds  of  jollity,  not  so  much 
to  enjoy  company  as  to  shun  myself,  and  am  only 
loud  and  merry  to  conceal  my  sadness." 

"  Every  man,"  said  Imlac,  "  may,  by  examining 
his  own  mind,  guess  what  passes  in  the  minds  of 
others.    When  you  feel  that  your  own  gayety  is 


AT  CAIRO.  75 

L 

counterfeit,  it  may  justly  lead  you  to  suspect  that 
of  your  companions  not  to  be  sincere.  Envy  is 
commonly  reciprocal.  We  are  long  before  we  are 
convinced  that  happiness  is  never  to  be  found, 
and  each  believes  it  possessed  by  others  to  keep 
alive  the  hope  of  obtaining  it  for  himself.  In  the 
assembly  where  you  passed  the  last  night,  there 
appeared  such  sprightliness  of  air  and  volatility 
of  fancy  as  might  have  suited  beings  of  a  higher 
order,  formed  to  inhabit  serener  regions  inacces- 
sible to  care  or  sorrow ;  yet  believe  me,  prince, 
there  was  not  one  who  did  not  dread  the  moment 
when  solitude  should  deliver  him  to  the  tyranny 
of  reflection." 

"  This,"  said  the  prince,  "  may  be  true  of  others, 
since  it  is  true  of  me  ;  yet  whatever  be  the  general 
infelicity  of  man,  one  condition  is  more  happy 
than  another,  and  wisdom  surely  directs  us  to  take 
the  least  evil  in  the  choice  of  life." 

"  The  causes  of  good  and  evil,"  answered  Imlac, 
"  are  so  various  and  uncertain,  so  often  entangled 
with  each  other,  so  diversified  by  various  relations, 
and  so  much  subject  to  accidents  which  cannot 
be  foreseen,  that  he  who  would  fix  his  condition 
upon  incontestable  reasons  of  preference  must 
live  and  die  inquiring  and  deliberating." 

"  But  surely,"  said  Rasselas,  "  the  wise  men,  to 
whom  we  listen  with  reverence  and  wonder,  chose 
that  mode  of  life  for  themselves  which  they  thought 
most  likely  to  make  them  happy." 


76  RASSELAS. 

"Very  few,"  said  the  poet,  "live  by  choice. 
Every  man  is  placed  in  his  present  condition  by 
causes  which  acted  without  his  foresight,  and 
with  which  he  did  not  always  willingly  co-operate  ; 
and  therefore  you  will  rarely  meet  one  who  does 
not  think  the  lot  of  his  neighbor  better  than  his 
own." 

""  I  am  pleased  to  think,"  said  the  prince,  "  that 
my  birth  has  given  me  at  least  one  advantage  over 
others,  by  enabling  me  to  determine  for  myself. 
I  have  here  the  world  before  me ;  I  will  review  it 
f)  at  leisure  :  surely  happiness  is  somewhere  to  be 
X   r   found." 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE   PRINCE   ASSOCIATES   WITH   YOUNG   MEN   OF 
SPIRIT   AND    GAYETY. 


ASSELAS  rose  next  day,  and  resolved 
to  begin  his  experiments  upon  life. 
"  Youth,"  cried  he,  "  is  the  time  of 
gladness  :  I  will  join  myself  to  the 
young  men,  whose  only  business  is  to  gratify  their  4-' 
desires,  and  whose  time  is  all  spent  in  a  succes- 
sion of  enjoyments." 

To  such  societies  he  was  readily  admitted  ;  but 
a  few  days  brought  him  back  weary  and  disgusted. 
Their  mirth  was  without  images  ;  their  laughter 
without  motive ;  their  pleasures  were  gross  and 
sensual,  in  which  the  mind  had  no  part;  their 
conduct  was  at  once  wild  and  mean  ;  they  laughed 
at  order  and  at  law,  but  the  frown  of  power  de- 
jected, and  the  eye  of  wisdom  abashed  them. 

The  prince  soon  concluded  that  he  should 
never  be  happy  in  a  course  of  life  of  which  he 
was  ashamed.     He  thought  it  unsuitable  to  a  rea- 


/ 


78  RASSELAS. 

sonable  being  to  act  without  a  plan,  and  to  be  sad 
or  cheerful  only  by  chance.  "  Happiness,"  said 
he,  "  must  be  something  solid  and  permanent, 
without  fear  and  without  uncertainty." 

But  his  young  companions  had  gained  so  much 
of  his  regard  by  their  frankness  and  courtesy,  that 
he  could  not  leave  them  without  warning  and  re- 
monstrance. "  My  friends,"  said  he,  "  I  have 
seriously  considered  our  manners  and  our  pros- 
pects, and  find  that  we  have  mistaken  our  own 
interest.  The  first  years  of  man  must  make  pro- 
vision for  the  last.  He  that  never  thinks  never 
can  be  wise.  Perpetual  levity  must  end  in  igno- 
rance ;  and  intemperance,  though  it  may  fire  the 
spirits  for  an  hour,  will  make  life  short  or  miser- 
able. Let  us  consider  that  youth  is  of  no  long 
duration,  and  that  in  maturer  age,  when  the  en- 
chantments of  fancy  shall  cease,  and  phantoms  of 
delight  dance  no  more  about  us,  we  shall  have  no 
comforts  but  the  esteem  of  wise  men,  and  the 
means  of  doing  good.  Let  us,  therefore,  stop, 
while  to  stop  is  in  our  power.  Let  us  live  as  men 
who  are  some  time  to  grow  old,  and  to  whom  it 
will  be  the  most  dreadful  of  all  evils  to  count 
their  past  years  by  follies,  and  to  be  reminded  of 
their  former  luxuriance  of  health  only  by  the 
maladies  which  riot  has  produced." 

They  stared  awhile  in  silence  one  upon  another, 
and  at  last  drove  him  away  by  a  general  chorus 
of  continued  laughter. 


PURSUES  HIS  SEARCH. 


79 


The  consciousness  that  his  sentiments  were  just 
and  his  intentions  kind,  was  scarcely  sufficient  to 
support  him  against  the  horror  of  derision.  But 
he  recovered  his  tranquillity,  and  pursued  his 
search. 


<**& 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


P 


THE    PRINCE    FINDS    A    WISE   AND    HAPPY    MAN. 

^S  he  was  one  day  walking  in  the  street, 
he  saw  a  spacious  building,  which  all 
were,  by  the  open  doors,  invited  to 
enter.  He  followed  the  stream  of 
people,  and  found  it  a  hall  or  school  of  declama- 
tion, in  which  professors  read  lectures  to  their 
auditory.  He  fixed  his  eye  upon  a  sage  raised 
above  the  rest,  who  discoursed  with  great  energy 
on  the  government  of  the  passions.  His  look 
was  venerable,  his  action  graceful,  his  pronuncia- 
tion clear,  and  his  diction  elegant.  He  showed, 
with  great  strength  of  sentiment  and  variety  of 
illustration,  that  human  nature  is  degraded  and 
debased  when  the  lower  faculties  predominate 
over  the  higher;  that  wJafiJLfancy^  the  parent- of 
passion,  usurps  the  dominion  of  the  mind  noth- 
ing ensues  but  the  natural  effect  of  unlawful  gov- 
ernment, perturbation  and  confusion ;  that  she 
betrays  the  fortresses  of  the  intellect  to  rebels, 


A  PHILOSOPHER.  8 1 

and  excites  her  children  to  sedition  against  rea- 
son, their  lawful  sovereign.  H£_cornpared  reason 
to  the  sun,  of  which  the  light  is  constant,  uniform, 
and  lasting  ;  and  fancy  to  a  meteor,  of  bright  but 
transitory  lustre,  irregular  in  its  motion,  and  delu- 
sive in  its  direction. 

He  then  communicated  the  various  precepts 
given  from  time  to  time  for  the  conquest  of  pas- 
sion, and  displayed  the  happiness  of  those  who 
had  obtained  the  important  victory,  after  which 
man  is  no  longer  the  slave  of  fear,  nor  the  fool  of 
hope ;  is  no  more  emaciated  by  envy,  inflamed 
by  anger,  emasculated  by  tenderness,  or  depressed 
by  grief;  but  walks  on  calmly  through  the  tumults 
or  privacies  of  life,  as  the  sun  pursues  alike  his 
course  through  the  calm  or  the  stormy  sky. 

He  enumerated  many  examples  of  heroes  im- 
movable by  pain  or  pleasure,  who  looked  with 
indifference  on  those  modes  or  accidents  to  which 
the  vulgar  give  the  names  of  good  and  evil.  He 
exhorted  his  hearers  to  lay  aside  their  prejudices, 
and  arm  themselves  against  the  shafts  of  malice 
or  misfortune,  by  invulnerable  patience,  conclud- 
ing, that  this  state  only  was  happiness,  and  that 
this  happiness  was  in  every  one's  power. 

Rasselas  listened  to  him  with  the  veneration 
due  to  the  instructions  of  a  superior  being,  and, 
waiting  for  him  at  the  door,  humbly  implored  the 
liberty  of  visiting  so  great  a  master  of  true  wis- 
dom.    The  lecturer  hesitated   a  moment,  when 

6 


K 


82  RASSELAS. 

Rasselas  put  a  purse  of  gold  into  his  hand,  which 
he  received  with  a  mixture  of  joy  and  wonder. 

"  I  have  found,"  said  the  prince,  at  his  return 
to  Imlac,  "  a  man  who  can  teach  all  that  is 
necessary  to  be  known,  who,  from  the  unshaken 
throne  of  rational  fortitude,  looks  down  on  the 
scenes  of  life  changing  beneath  him.  He  speaks, 
and  attention  watches  his  lips.  He  reaStms,  and 
conviction  closes  his  periods.  This  man  shall  be 
my  future  guide.  I  will  learn  his  doctrines,  and 
imitate  his  life." 

"Be  not  too  hasty."  said  Irnlac,  ''to  trust,  or 
to  admire,  the  teachers  of  morality ;  they  dis- 
course like  angels,  but  they  live  like  men." 

Rasselas,  who  could  not  conceive  how  any  man 
could  reason  so  forcibly  without  feeling  the  co- 
gency of  his  own  arguments,  paid  his  visit  in  a 
few  days,  and  was  denied  admission.  He  had 
now  learned  the  power  of  money,  and  made  his 
way  by  a  piece  of  gold  to  the  inner  apartment, 
where  he  found  the  philosopher  in  a  room  half 
darkened,  with  his  eyes  misty,  and  his  face  pale. 
"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  you  are  come  at  a  time  when  all 
human  friendship  is  useless ;  what  I  suffer  cannot 
be  remedied,  what  I  have  lost  cannot  be  supplied. 
My  daughter,  my  only  daughter,  from  whose 
tenderness  I  expected  all  the  comforts  of  my  age, 
died  last  night  of  a  fever.  My  views,  my  pur- 
poses, my  hopes,  are  at  an  end.  I  am  now  a 
lonely  being,  disunited  from  society." 


A  PHILOSOPHER.  83 

"  Sir,"  said  the  prince,  "  mortality  is  an  event  by 
which  a  wise  man  can  never  be  surprised.  We 
know  that  death  is  always  near,  and  it  should 
therefore  always  be  expected." 

"  Young  man,"  answered  the  philosopher,  "  you 
speak  like  one  that  has  never  felt  the  pangs  of 
separation." 

"  Have  you  then  forgot  the  precepts,"  said 
Rasselas,  "which  you  so  powerfully  enforced? 
Has  wisdom  no  strength  to  arm  the  heart  against 
calamity?  Consider  that  external  things  are 
naturally  variable,  but  truth  and  reason  are  always 
the  same." 

"  What  comfort,"  said  the  mourner,  "  can  truth 
and  reason  afford  me?  Of  what  effect  are  they 
now,  but  to  tell  me  that  my  daughter  will  not 
be  restored?  " 

The  prince,  whose  humanity  would  not  suffer 
him  to  insult  misery  with  reproof,  went  away 
convinced  of  the  emptiness  of  rhetorical  sound, 
and  the  inefhcacy  of  polished  periods  and  studied 
sentences. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


A    GLIMPSE    OF    PASTORAL    LIFE. 


S 


E  was  still  eager  upon  the  same  inquiry ; 
and  having  heard  of  a  hermit  that 
lived  near  the  lowest  cataract  of 
the  Nile,  and  filled  the  whole  country 
with  the  fame  of  his  sanctity,  resolved  to  visit  his 
retreat,  and  inquire  whether  that  felicity,  which 
public  life  could  not  afford,  was  to  be  found  in 
solitude ;  and  whether  a  man,  whose  age  and 
virtue  made  him  venerable,  could  teach  any  pecu- 
liar art  of  shunning  evils,  or  enduring  them  ? 

Imlac  and  the  princess  agreed  to  accompany  him, 
and,  after  the  necessary  preparations,  they  began 
their  journey.  Their  way  lay  through  the  fields, 
where  shepherds  tended  their  flocks,  and  the  lambs 
were  playing  upon  the  pasture.  "  This,"  said  the 
poet,  "  is  the  life  which  has  been  often  celebrated 
for  its  innocence  and  quiet ;  let  us  pass  the  heat 
of  the  day  among  the  shepherd's  tents,  and  know 
whether  all  our  searches  are  not  to  terminate  in 
pastoral  simplicity." 


PASTORAL  LIFE.  85 

The  proposal  pleased  them,  and  they  induced 
the  shepherds,  by  small  presents  and  familiar 
questions,  to  tell  their  opinion  of  their  own  state. 
They  were  so  rude  and  ignorant,  so  little  able  to 
compare  the  good  with  the  evil  of  the  occupation,  - 
and  so  indistinct  in  their  narratives  and  descrip-' 
tions,  that  very  little  could  be  learned  from  them; 
But  it  was  evident  that  their  hearts  were  cankered 
with  discontent ;  that  they  considered  themselves 
as  condemned  to  labor  for  the  luxury  of  the  rich, 
and  looked  up  with  stupid  malevolence  towards 
those  that  were  placed  above  them. 

The  princess  pronounced  with  vehemence  that 
she  would  never  suffer  these  envious  savages  to  be 
her  companions,  and  that  she  should  not  soon  be 
desirous  of  seeing  any  more  specimens  of  rustic 
happiness ;  but  could  not  believe  that  all  the  ac- 
counts of  primeval  pleasures  were  fabulous ;  and 
was  yet  in  doubt  whether  life  had  anything  that 
could  be  justly  preferred  to  the  placid  gratifica- 
tions of  fields  and  woods.  She  hoped  that  the 
time  woufd  come,  when,  with  a  few  virtuous  and 
elegant  companions,  she  should  gather  flowers 
planted  by  her  own  hand,  fondle  the  lambs  of  her 
own  ewe,  and  listen  without  care,  among  brooks 
and  breezes,  to  one  of  her  maidens  reading  in 
the  shade. 


R 


CHAPTER   XX. 


THE   DANGER   OF   PROSPERITY. 


J 


N  the  next  day  they  continued  their 
journey,  till  the  heat  compelled  them 
to  look  round  for  shelter.  At  a  small 
distance  they  saw  a  thick  wood,  which 
they  no  sooner  entered  than  they  perceived  that 
they  were  approaching  the  habitations  of  men. 
The  shrubs  were  diligently  cut  away  to  open  walks 
where  the  shades  were  darkest ;  the  boughs  of 
opposite  trees  were  artificially  interwoven ;  seats 
of  flowery  turf  were  raised  in  vacant  spaces,  and 
a  rivulet  that  wantoned  along  the  side  of  a  wind- 
ing path,  had  its  banks  sometimes  opened  into 
small  basins,  and  its  stream  sometimes  obstructed 
by  little  mounds  of  stone  heaped  together  to 
increase    its   murmurs. 

They  passed  slowly  through  the  wood,  delighted 
with  such  unexpected  accommodations,  and  en- 
tertained each  other  with  conjecturing  what, 
or  who,  he  could  be,  that,  in  those  rude  and  un- 


HOPES  AND   FEARS.  87 

frequented  regions,  had  leisure  and  heart  for  such 
harmless  luxury. 

As  they  advanced  they  heard  the  sound  of 
music,  and  saw  youths  and  virgins  dancing  in  the 
grove ;  and  going  still  further  beheld  a  stately 
palace  built  upon  a  hill  surrounded  with  woods. 
The  laws  of  eastern  hospitality  allowed  them  to 
enter,  and  the  master  welcomed  them  like  a  man 
liberal  and  wealthy. 

He  was  skilful  enough  in  appearances  soon  to 
discern  that  they  were  no  common  guests,  and 
spread  his  table  with  magnificence.  TJie„.eiQ- 
quence  of  Imlac  caught  his  attention,  and  the 
lofty  courtesy  of  the  princess  excited  his  respect. 
When  they  offered  to  depart  he  entreated  their 
stay,  and  was  the  next  day  still  more  unwilling  to 
dismiss  them  than  before.  They  were  easily  per- 
suaded to  stop,  and  civility  grew  up  in  time  to 
freedom  and  confidence. 

The  prince  now  saw  all  the  domestics  cheerful, 
and  all  the  face  of  Nature  smiling  round  the 
place,  and  could  not  forbear  to  hope  that  he 
should  find  here  what  he  was  seeking ;  but  when 
he  was  congratulating  the  master  upon  his  pos- 
sessions, he  answered  with  a  sigh,  "  My  condition 
has  indeed  the  appearance  of  happiness,  but  ap- 
pearances are  delusive.  My  prosperity  puts  my 
life  in  danger;  the  Bassa  of  Egypt  is  my  enemy, 
incensed  only  by  my  wealth  and  popularity.  I 
have  been  hitherto  protected  against  him  by  the 


88  RASSELAS. 

princes  of  the  country ;  but,  as  the  favor  of  the 
great  is  uncertain,  I  know  not  how  soon  my  de- 
fenders may  be  persuaded  to  share  the  plunder 
with  the  Bassa.  I  have  sent  my  treasures  into  a 
distant  country,  and,  upon  the  first  alarm,  am 
prepared  to  follow  them.  Then  will  my  enemies 
riot  in  my  mansion,  and  enjoy  the  gardens  which 
I  have  planted." 

They  all  joined  in  lamenting  his  danger,  and 
deprecating  his  exile ;  and  the  princess  was  so 
much  disturbed  with  the  tumult  of  grief  and  in- 
dignation that  she  retired  to  her  apartment. 
They  continued  with  their  kind  inviter  a  few 
days  longer,  and  then  went  forward  to  find  the 
hermit. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

THE    HAPPINESS    OF   SOLITUDE.      THE   HERMIT'S 
HISTORY. 


HEY  came  on  the  third  day,  by  the  di-  ^ 
rection  of  the  peasants,  to  the  hermit's 
cell.  It  was  a  cavern  in  the  side  of 
a  mountain,  over-shadowed  with  palm- 
trees,  at  such  a  distance  from  the  cataract  that  t\ 
nothing  more  was  heard  than  a  gentle  uniform 
murmur,  such  as  composed  the  mind  to  pensive 
meditation,  especially  when  it  was  assisted  by  the 
wind  whistling  among  the  branches.  The  first 
rude  essay  of  Nature  had  been  so  much  improved 
by  human  labor  that  the  cave  contained  several 
apartments  appropriated  to  different  uses,  and 
often  afforded  lodging  to  travellers,  whom  dark- 
ness or  tempests  happened  to  overtake. 

The  hermit  sat  on  a  bench  at  the  door,  to 
enjoy  the  coolness  of  the  evening.  On  one  side 
lay  a  book  with  pens  and  papers ;  on  the  other 
mechanical    instruments    of   various    kinds.      As 


90  RASSELAS. 

they  approached  him  unregarded,  the  princess 
observed  that  he  had"  not  the  countenance  of  a 
man  that  had  found,  or  could  teach  the  way  to 
happiness. 

They  saluted  him  with  great  respect,  which  he 
repaid  like  a  man  not  unaccustomed  to  the  forms 
of  courts.  "  My  children,"  said  he,  "  if  you  have 
lost  your  way,  you  shall  be  willingly  supplied  with 
such  conveniences  for  the  night  as  this  cavern  will 
afford.  I  have  all  that  Nature  requires,  and  you 
will  not  expect  delicacies  in  a  hermit's  cell." 

They  thanked  him,  and  entering,  were  pleased 
with  the  neatness  and  regularity  of  the  place. 
The  hermit  set  flesh  and  wine  before  them,  though 
he  fed  only  upon  fruits  and  water.  His  discourse 
was  cheerful  without  levity,  and  pious  without 
enthusiasm.  He  soon  gained  the  esteem  of  his 
guests,  and  the  princess  repented  of  her  hasty 
censure. 

At  last  Imlac  began  thus :  "I  do  not  now 
wonder  that  your  reputation  is  so  far  extended ; 
we  have  heard  at  Cairo  of  your  wisdom,  and  came 
hither  to  implore  your  direction  for  this  young 
man  and   maiden  in  the  choice   of  life." 

"To  him  that  lives  well,"  answered  the  hermit, 
"  every  form  of  life  is  good  ;  nor  can  I  give  any 
other  rule  for  choice  than  to  remove  from  all 
apparent  evil." 

"  He  will  remove  most  certainly  from  evil," 
said   the   prince,  "  who  shall    devote   himself  to 


CHOICE   OF  LIFE.  9 1 

that  solitude  which  you  have  recommended  by 
your  example." 

"  I  have  indeed  lived  fifteen  years  in  solitude," 
said  the  hermit,  "  but  have  no  desire  that  my  ex- 
ample should  gain  any  imitators.  In  my  youth  I 
professed  arms,  and  was  raised  by  degrees  to  the 
highest  military  rank.  I  have  traversed  wide 
countries  at  the  head  of  my  troops,  and  seen  many 
battles  and  sieges.  At  last,  being  disgusted  by  the 
preferments  of  a  younger  officer,  and  feeling  that 
my  vigor  was  beginning  to  decay,  I  resolved  to 
close  my  life  in  peace,  having  found  the  world  full 
of  snares,  discord,  and  misery.  I  had  once 
escaped  from  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy  by  the 
shelter  of  this  cavern,  and  therefore  chose  it  for 
my  final  residence.  I  employed  artificers  to 
form  it  into  chambers,  and  stored  it  with  all 
that  I  was  likely  to  want. 

"  For  some  time  after  my  retreat,  I  rejoiced 
like  a  tempest-beaten  sailor  at  his  entrance  into 
the  harbor,  being  delighted  with  the  sudden 
change  of  the  noise  and  hurry  of  war  to  stillness 
and  repose.  When  the  pleasure  of  novelty  went 
away,  I  employed  my  hours  in  examining  the 
plants  which  grew  in  the  Valley,  and  the  minerals 
which  I  collected  from  the  rocks.  But  that  in- 
quiry is  now  grown  tasteless  and  irksome.  IJiave 
been  for  some  time  unsettled  and  distracted  ;  my 
mind  is  disturbed  with  a  thousand  perplexities  of 
doubt,  and  vanities  of  imagination,  which  hourly 


t 


92  RASSELAS. 

prevail  upon  me,  because  I  have  no  opportuni- 
ties of  relaxation  or  diversion.  I  am  sometimes 
ashamed  to  think  that  I  could  not  secure  myself 
from  vice,  but  by  retiring  from  the  exercise  of 
virtue,  and  begin  to  suspect  that  I  was  rather  im- 
pelled by  resentment,  than  led  by  devotion,  into 
solitude.  My  fancy  riots  in  scenes  of  folly,  and 
I  lament  that  I  have  lest  so  much  and  have 
gained  so  little.  In  solitude,  if  I  escape  the 
example  of  bad  men,  I  want  likewise  the  counsel 
and  conversation  of  the  good.  I  have  been  long 
comparing  the  evils  with  the  advantages-" oT~so- 
ciety,  and  resolved  to  return  into  the  world 
to-morrow.  The  life  of  a  solitary  man  wiih-fee. 
certainly  miserable,  but  not  certainly  devout." 

They  heard  his  resolution  with  surprise,  but 
after  a  short  pause  offered  to  conduct  him  to 
Cairo.  He  dug  up  a  considerable  treasure  which 
he  had  hid  among  the  rocks,  and  accompanied 
them  to  the  city,  on  which,  as  he  approached  it, 
he  gazed  with  rapture. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


THE   HAPPINESS    OF   A    LIFE   LED   ACCORDING  TO 
NATURE. 

jjASSELAS  went  often  to  an  assembly  of 
learned  men,  who  met  at  stated  times 
to  unbend  their  minds,  and  compare 
their  opinions.  Their  manners  were 
somewhat  coarse,  but  their  conversation  was  in- 
structive, and  their  disputations  acute,  though 
sometimes  too  violent,  and  often  continued  till 
neither  controvertist  remembered  upon  what  ques- 
tion they  began.  Some  faults  were  almost  gen-  I 
eral  among  them,  —  every  one  was  desirous  to 
dictate  to  the  rest,  and  every  one  was  pleased 
to  hear  the  genius  or  knowledge  of  another 
depreciated. 

In  this  assembly  Rasselas  was  relating  his  inter- 
view with  the  hermit,  and  the  wonder  with  which 
he  heard  him  censure  a  course  of  life  which  he 
had  so  deliberately  chosen,  and  so  laudably  fol- 
lowedT  The  sentiments  of  the  hearers  were  va- 
rious.    Some  were  of  opinion  that  the  folly  of  his 


94  RASSELAS. 

choice  had  been  justly  punished  by  condemnation 
to  perpetual  perseverance.  One  of  the  youngest 
among  them,  with  great  vehemence,  pronounced 
him  a  hypocrite.  Some  talked  of  the  right  of 
society  to  the  labor  of  individuals,  and  considered 
retirement  as  a  desertion  of  duty.  Others  readily 
allowed  that  there  was  a  time  when  the  claims  of 
the  public  were  satisfied,  and  when  a  man  might 
properly  sequester  himself,  to  review  his  life  and 
purify  his  heart. 

One,  who  appeared  more  affected  with  the 
narrative  than  the  rest,  thought  it  likely  that  the 
hermit  would,  in  a  few  years,  go  back  to  his  re- 
treat, and,  perhaps,  if  shame  did  not  restrain,  or 
death  intercept  him,  return  once  more  from  his 
retreat  into  the  world.  "  For  the  hope  of  happi- 
ness," said  he,  "  is  so  strongly  impressed,  that  the 
longest  experience  is  not  able  to  efface  it.  Of 
the  present  state,  whatever  it  be,  we  feel,  and  are 
forced  to  confess,  the  misery ;  yet,  when  the  same 
state  is  again  at  a  distance,  imagination  paints  it 
as  desirable.  But  the  time  will  surely  come,  when 
desire  will  be  no  longer  our  torment,  and  no  man 
shall  be  wretched  but  by  his  own  fault." 

"  This,"  said  a  philosopher,  who  had  heard  him 
with  tokens  of  great  impatience,  "  is  the  present 
condition  of  a  wise  man.  The  time  is  already 
come,  when  none  are  wretched  but  by  their  own 
fault.  Nothing  is  more  idle  than  to  inquire  after 
happiness,  which  Nature  has  kindly  placed  within 


NATURAL  LIFE.  95 

our  reach.  The  way  to  be  happy  is  to  live  ac- 
cording to  Nature,  in  obedience  to  that  universal  / 
and  unalterable  law  with  which  every  heart  is  ) 
originally  impressed ;  which  is  not  written  on  it 
by  precept,  but  engraven  by  destiny,  not  instilled 
by  education,  but  infused  at  our  nativity.  He 
that  lives  according  to  Nature,  will  suffer  nothing 
from  the  delusions  of  hope,  or  importunities  of 
desire  ;  he  will  receive  and  reject  with  equability 
of  temper;  and  act  or  suffer  as  the  reason  of 
things  shall  alternately  prescribe.  Other  men 
may  amuse  themselves  with  subtle  definitions,  or 
intricate  ratiocinations.  Let  them  learn  to  be 
wise  by  easier  means ;  let  them  observe  the  hind 
of  the  forest,  and  the  linnet  of  the  grove  ;  let  them 
consider  the  life  of  animals,  whose  motions  are 
regulated  by  instinct ;  they  obey  their  guide,  and 
are  happy.  Let  us,  therefore,  at  length  cease  to 
dispute,  and  learn  to  live  ;  throw  away  the  encum- 
brance of  precepts,  which  they  who  utter  them 
with  so  much  pride  and  pomp  do  not  understand, 
and  carry  with  us  this  simple  and  intelligible 
maxim,  '  That  deviation  from  Nature  is  deviation) 
from  happiness.' "  When  he  had  spoken,  he 
looked  round  him  with  a  placid  air,  and  enjoyed 
the  consciousness  of  his  own  beneficence. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  prince,  with  great  modesty,  "  as  / 
I,  like  all  the  rest  of  mankind,  am  desirous  of/ 
felicity,  my  closest  attention  has  been  fixed  upon 
your   discourse.      I   doubt    not    the    truth    of  a 


96  RASSELAS. 

position  which  a  man  so  learned  has  so  confidently- 
advanced.  Let  me  only  know  what  it  is  to  live 
according  to  Nature?  " 

"  When  I  find  young  men  so  humble  and  so 
docile,"  said  the  philosopher,  "  I  can  deny  them 
no  information  which  my  studies  have  enabled  me 
to  afford.  To  live  according  to  Nature,  is  to  act 
always  with  due  regard  to  the  fitness  arising. from 
the  relations  and  qualities  of  causes  and  effects.; 
to  concur  with  the  great  an^fcichangeable  scheme 
of  universal  felicity ;  to  co-operate  with  the  gen- 
eral disposition  and  tendency  of  the  present  system 
of  things." 

The  prince  soon  found  that  this  was  one  of  the 
sages  whom  he  should  understand  less  as  he  heard 
him  longer.  He  therefore  bowed  and  was  silent ; 
and  the  philosopher,  supposing  him  satisfied,  and 
the  rest  vanquished,  rose  up  and  departed  with 
the  air  of  a  man  that  had  co-operated  with  the 
present  system. 


t^S^T^? 

^^MW&WP^^ 

\syjf!3m 

r^^w^mWt!^^' 

\^§F$§§ 

S^^^^i>4f^® 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THE    PRINCE    AND    fflS    SISTER    DIVIDE    BETWEEN 
THEM    THE    WORK    OF    OBSERVATION. 

ASSELAS  returned  home  full  of  reflec- 
tions, doubtful  how  to  direct  his  future 
steps.  Of  the  way  to  happiness  he 
found  the  learned  and  simple  equally 
ignorant ;  but,  as  he  was  yet  young,  he  nattered 
himself  that  he  had  time  remaining  for  more  ex- 
periments, and  further  inquiries.  He  communi- 
cated to  Imlac  his  observations  and  his  doubts, 
but  was  answered  by  him  with  new  doubts,  and 
remarks  that  gave  him  no  comfort.  He  therefore 
discoursed  more  frequently  and  freely  with  his 
sister,  who  had  yet  the  same  hope  with  himself, 
and  always  assisted  him  to  give  some  reason  why, 
though  he  had  been  hitherto  frustrated,  he  might 
succeed  at  last. 

"  We  have  hitherto,"  said  she  "  known  but  lit- 
tle of  the  world ;  we  have  never  yet  been  either 
great  or  mean.     In  our  own  country,  though  we 

7 


y 


9  8  EASSELAS. 

had  royalty,  we  had  no  power,  and  in  this  we  have 
not  yet  seen  the  private  recesses  of  domestic 
peace.  Imlac  favors  not  our  search,  lest  we 
should  in  time  find  him  mistaken.  We  will  di- 
vide the  task  between  us ;  you  shall  try  what  is  to 
\  be  found  in  the  splendor  of  courts,  and  I  will 
range  the  shades  of  humbler  life.  Perhaps  com- 
mand and  authority  may  be  the  supreme  blessings, 
asjhey  afford  most  opportunities  of  doing  good  : 
or,  perhaps,  what  this  wOTd  can  give  may  be 
found  in  the  modest  habitations  of  middle  for- 
tune, too  low  for  great  designs,  and  too  high  for 
penury  and  distress." 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 


THE   PRINCE    EXAMINES   THE    HAPPINESS   OF    HIGH 
STATIONS. 

ASSELAS  applauded  the  design,  and 
appeared  next  day  with  a  splendid 
retinue  at  the  court  of  the  Bassa.  He 
was  soon  distinguished  for  his  magni- 
ficence, and  admitted,  as  a  prince  whose  curiosity- 
had  brought  him  from  distant  countries,  to  an 
intimacy  with  the  great  officers,  and  frequent  con- 
versation with  the  Bassa  himself. 

He  was  at  first  inclined  to  believe  that  the  man 
must  be  pleased  with  his  own  condition  whom  all 
approached  with  reverence,  and  heard  with  obedi- 
ence, and  who  had  the  power  to  extend  his  edicts 
to  a  whole  kingdom.  "  There  can  be  no  pleas- 
ure," said  he,  "  equal  to  that  of  feeling  at  once 
the  joy  of  thousands  all  made  happy  by  wise  ad- 
ministration. Yet  since  by  the  law  of  subordina- 
tion this  sublime  delight  can  be  in  one  nation  but 
the  lot  of  one,  it  is  surely  reasonable  to  think 
that  there  is  some  satisfaction  more  popular  and 


I OO  RASSELAS. 

accessible,  and  that  millions  can  hardly  be  sub- 
jected to  the  will  of  a  single  man  only  to  fill  his 
particular  breast  with  incommunicable  content." 

These  thoughts  were  often  in  his  mind,  and  he 
found  no  solution  of  the  difficulty.  But  as  presents 
and  civilities  gained  him  more  familiarity,  he  found 
that  almost  every  man  who  stood  high  in  employ- 
ment hated  all  the  rest,  and  was  hated  by  them, 
and  that  their  lives  were  a  continual  succession  of 
plpjts  and  detections,  stratagems  and  escapes, 
faction  and  treachery.  Many  of  those  who  sur- 
rounded the  Bassa  were  sent  only  to  watch  and 
report  his  conduct ;  every  tongue  was  muttering 
censure,  and  every  eye  was  searching  for  a 
fault. 

At  last  the  letters  of  revocation  arrived,  the 
Bassa  was  carried  in  chains  to  Constantinople, 
and  his  name  was  mentioned  no  more. 

"  What  are  we  now  to  think  of  the  prerogatives 
of  power,"  said  Rasselas  to  his  sister;  "is  it 
without  any  efficacy  to  good,  or  is  the  subordi- 
nate degree  only  dangerous,  and  the  supreme  safe 
and  glorious?  Is  the  Sultan  the  only  happy  man 
in  his  dominions,  or  is  the  Sultan  himself  subject 
to  the  torments  of  suspicion  and  the  dread  of 
enemies?  " 

In  a  short  time  the  second  Bassa  was  deposed. 
The  Sultan  that  had  advanced  him  was  murdered 
by  the  Janizaries,  and  his  successor  had  other 
views  and  different  favorites. 


* 


CHAPTER   XXV. 


THE   PRINCESS    PURSUES    HER   INQUIRY   WITH   MORE 
DILIGENCE    THAN    SUCCESS. 

HE  princess,  in  the  meantime,  insinu- 
ated herself  into  many  families  ;  for 
there  are  few  doors  through  which 
liberality,  joined  with  good-humor, 
cannot  find  its  way.  The  daughters  of  many 
houses  were  airy  and  cheerful,  but  Nekayah  had 
been  too  long  accustomed  to  the  conversation  of 
Imlac  and  her  brother,  to  be  much  pleased  with 
childish  levity,  and  prattle  which  had  no  meaning. 
She  found  their  thoughts  narrow,  their  wishes  low, 
and  their  merriment  often  artificial.  Their  pleas- 
ures,  poor  as  they  were,  could  not  be  preserved 
pure,  but  were  embittered  by  petty  competitions 
and  worthless  emulation.  They  were  always 
jealous  of  the  beauty  of  each  other ;  of  a  quality 
to  which  solitude  can  add  nothing,  and  from 
which  detraction  can  take  nothing  away.  Many 
were   in  love  with   triflers    like    themselves,   and 


102  HASSELAS. 

many  fancied  that  they  were  in  love,  when  in 
truth  they  were  only  idle.  Their  affection  was 
not  fixed  on  sense  or  virtue,  and  therefore  seldom 
ended  but  in  vexation.  Their  grief,  however, 
like  their  joy,  was  transient ;  everything  floated  in 
their  mind  unconnected  with  the  past  or  future, 
so  that  one  desire  easily  gave  way  to  another,  as 
a  second  stone  cast  into  the  water  effaces  and 
confounds  the  circles  of  the  first. 

With  these  girls  she  played  as  with  inoffensive 
animals,  and  found  them  proud  of  her  counte- 
nance, and  weary  of  her  company. 

But  her  purpose  was  to  examine  more  deeply, 
and  her  affability  easily  persuaded  the  hearts  that 
were  swelling  with  sorrow  to  discharge  their 
secrets  in  her  ear ;  and  those  whom  hope  flat- 
tered, or  prosperity  delighted,  often  courted  her 
to  partake  their  pleasures. 

The  princess  and  her  brother  commonly  met  in 
the  evening  in  a  private  summer-house  on  the 
bank  of  the  Nile,  and  related  to  each  other  the 
occurrences  of  the  day.  As  they  were  sitting 
together,  the  princess  cast  her  eyes  upon  the 
river  that  flowed  before  her.  "Answer,"  said 
she,  "  great  father  of  waters,  thou  that  rollest  thy 
floods  through  eighty  nations,  to  the  invocations 
of  the  daughter  of  thy  native  king.  Tell  me  if 
thou  waterest  through  all  thy  course  a  single 
habitation  from  which  thou  dost  not  hear  the 
murmurs  of  complaint?  " 


DISCOURSE   OF    THE  PRINCESS.  103 

"  You  are__thejft," — said  Rasselas,  "  not  more 
successful  in  private  houses  than  I  have  been  in 
courts." 

"  I  have,  since  the  last  partition  of  our  pro- 
vinces," said  the  princess,  "  enabled  myself  to 
enter  familiarly  into  many  families,  where  there 
was  the  fairest  show  of  prosperity  and  peace,  and 
know  not  one  house  that  is  not  haunted  by  some 
fury  that  destroys  their  quiet. 

"  I  did  not  seek  ease  among  the  poor,  because 
I  concluded  that  there  it  could  not  be  found. 
But  I  saw  many  poor,  whom  I  had  supposed  to 
live  in  affluence.  Poverty  has,  in  large  cities, 
very  different  appearances  ;  it  is  often  concealed 
in  splendor,  and  often  in  extravagance. 

"  It  is  the  care  of  a  very  great  part  of  mankind 
to  conceal  their  indigence  from  the  rest ;  they 
support  themselves  by  temporary  expedients,  and 
every  day  is  lost  in  contriving  for  the  morrow. 

"  This,  however,  was  an  evil,  which,  though 
frequent,  I  saw  with  less  pain,  because  I  could 
relieve  it.  Yet  some  have  refused  my  bounties, 
more  offended  with  my  quickness  to  detect  their 
wants  than  pleased  with  my  readiness  to  succor 
them ;  and  others,  whose  exigencies  compelled 
them  to  admit  my  kindness,  have  never  been  able 
to  forgive  their  benefactress.  Many,  however, 
have  been  sincerely  grateful,  without  the  ostentation 
of  gratitude,  or  the  hope  of  other  favors."  1 
1  In  the  original  edition  this  chapter  ends  the  first  volume. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE   PRINCESS   CONTINUES    HER   REMARKS   UPON 
PRIVATE    LIFE. 


V 


EKAYAH,  perceiving  her  brother's  at- 
tention fixed,  proceeded  in  her  nar- 
rative. 

"In  families,  where  there  is  oris 
not  poverty,  there  is  commonly  discord  ;  if  a  king- 
dom be,  as  Imlac  tells  us,  a  great  family,  a  family 
likewise  is  a  little  kingdom,  torn  with  factions  and 
exposed  to  revolutions.  An  unpractised  observer 
expects  the  love  of  parents  and  children  to  be 
constant  and  equal ;  but  this  kindness  seldom 
continues  beyond  the  years  of  infancy.  In  a  short 
time  the  children  become  rivals  to  their  parents  ; 
benefits  are  allayed  by  reproaches,  and  gratitude 
debased  by  envy. 

"  Parents  and  children  seldom  act  in  concert ; 
each  child  endeavors  to  appropriate  the  esteem 
or  fondness  of  the  parents,  and  the  parents,  with 
yet  less  temptation,   betray  each  other  to  their 


REMARK'S   UPON  PRIVATE  LIFE.  1 05 

children ;    thus,   some   place  their  confidence   in 
the  father,  and  some  in  the  mother,  and  by  degrees  1/ 
the  house  is  filled  with  artifices  and  feuds. 

"  The  opinions  of  children  and  parents,  of  the 
young  and  the  old,  are  naturally  opposite  by  the 
contrary  effects  of  hope  and  despondence,  of  ex- 
pectation and  experience,  without  crime  or  folly  on 
either  side.  The  colors  of  life  in  youth  and  age 
appear  different,  as  the  face  of  Nature  in  spring 
and  winter.  And  how  can  children  credit  the 
assertions  of  parents,  which  their  own  eyes  show 
them  to  be  false? 

"  Few  parents  act  in  such  a  manner  as  much  to 
enforce  their  maxims  by  the  credit  of  their  lives. 

/The   old   man   trusts  wholly  to   slow   contrivance 
and  gradual  progressions ;  the  youth   expects   to 

j  force  his  way  by  genius,  vigor,  and  precipitance. 

/  The  old  man  pays  regard  to  riches,  and  the  youth 
reverences  virtue.  The  old  man  deifies  prudence  ; 
the  youth  commits  himself  to  magnanimity  and 
chance.  The  young  man,  who  intends  no  ill, 
believes  that  none  is  intended,  and  therefore  acts 
with  openness  and  candor ;  but  his  father,  having 
suffered  the  injuries  of  fraud,  is  impelled  to  sus- 
pect, and  too  often  allured  to  practise  it.  Age. 
looks  with  anger  on  the  temerity  of  youth,  and 
youth  with  contempt  on  the  scrupulosity  of  age. 
Thus  parents  and  children,  for  the  greatest  part^ 
live  on  to  love  less  and  less;  and,  if  those  whom 
nature  has  thus  closely  united  are  the  torments  of 


106  RASSELAS. 

each   other,  where   shall  we  look  for  tenderness 
and  consolation?" 

"Surely,"  said  the  prince,  "you  must  have 
been  unfortunate  in  your  choice  of  acquaintance. 
I  am  unwilling  to  believe  that  the  most  tender  of 
all  relations  is  thus  impeded  in  its  effects  by 
natural  necessity." 

"  Domestic  discord,"  answered  she,  "  is  not 
inevitably  and  fatally  necessary ;  but  yet  it  is  not 
easily  avoided.  We  seldom  see  that  a  whole 
family  is  virtuous  ;  the^  good  and  evil  cannot  well 
agree,  and  the  evil  can  yet  less  agre£_with  one 
another ;  even  the  virtuous  fall  sometimes  to 
variance,  when  their  virtues  are  of  different  kinds 
and  tending  to  extremes.  In  general,  those 
parents  have  most  reverence  that  most  deserve 
it ;  for  he  that  lives  well  cannot  be  despised. 

"  Many  other  evils  infest  private  life.  Some- 
are  the  slaves  of  servants  whom  they  have  trusted 
with  their  affairs.  Some  are  kept  in  continual 
anxiety  by  the  caprice  of  rich  relations,  whom 
they  cannot  please  and  dare  not  offend.  Some 
husbands  are  imperious,  and  some  wives  per- 
verse ;  and,  as  it  is  always  more  easy  to  do  evil 
than  good,  though  the  wisdom  or  virtue  of  one 
can  very  rarely  make  many  happy/_the  folly  or 
vice  of  one  may  often  make  many  miserable.'!) 

"  If  such  be  the  general  effect  of  marriage," 
said  the  prince,  "  I  shall,  for  the  future,  think  it 
dangerous  to  connect   my  interest  with   that  of 


MARRIAGE.  107 

another,  lest  I  should  be  unhappy  by  my  part- 
ner's fault." 

"I  have  met,"  said  the  princess,  "with  many 
who  live  single  for  that  reason  ;  but  I  never  found 
that  their  prudence  ought  to  raise  envy.  They 
dream  away  their  time  without  friendship,  with- 
out fondness,  and  are  driven  to  rid  themselves  of 
the  day,  for  which  they  have  no  use,  by  childish 
amusements  or  vicious  delights.  They  act  as  be- 
ings under  the  constant  sense  of  some  known  in- 
feriority,  that  fills  their  minds  with  rancor,  and 
their  tongues  with  censure.  They  are  peevish  at 
home,  and  malevolent  abroad ;  and,  as  the  out- 
laws of  human  nature,  make  it  their  business  and 
their  pleasure  to  disturb  that  society  which  debars 
them  from  its  privileges.  [To  live  without  feeling 
or  exciting  sympathy,  to  be  fortunate  without  add- 
ing to  the  felicity  of  others,  or  afflicted  without 
tasting  the  balm  of  pity,  is  a  state  more  gloomy 
than  solitude  ;  it  is  not  retreat,  but  exclusion  from 
mankindJ  1Vj>rriap;e  h^s,  m?\nY  pa'™,  h"t  r.elihacv 
has  no  pleasures." 

"What  then  is  to  be  done?"  said  Rasselasj 
"  the  more  we  inquire,  the  less  we  can  resolve. 
Surely  he  is  most  likely  to  please  himself  that 
has  no  other  inclination  to  regard." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


DISQUISITION   UPON    GREATNESS. 


HE  conversation  had  a  short  pause. 
The  prince,  having  considered  his 
sister's  observations,  told  her  that 
she  had  surveyed  life  with  prejudice, 
and  supposed  misery  where  she  did  not  find  it. 
"  Your  narrative,"  said  he,  "  throws  yet  a  darker 
gloom  upon  the  prospects  of  futurity.  The  pre- 
dictions of  Imlac  were  but  faint  sketches  of  the 
evils  painted  by  Nekayah.  I  ..have  been  lately 
convinced  that  Quiet  is  not  the  daughter  of  Gran- 
deur or  of  Power ;  that  her  presence  is  not  to  be 
bought  by  wealth,  nor  enforced  by  conquest.     It 

I  is  evident  that  as  any  man  acts  in  a  wider  com- 
pass, he  must  be  more  exposed  to  opposition  from 
enmity,  or  miscarriage  from  chance.  Whoever  has 
many  to  please  or  to  govern,  must  use  the  minis- 
try of  many  agents,  some  of  whom  will  be  wicked, 
and  some  ignorant ;  by  some  he  will  be  misled, 
and  by  others  betrayed.     If  he  gratifies  one,  he 


DISCONTENT.  109 

will  offend  another;  those  that  are  not  favored 
will  think  themselves  injured  ;  and,  since  favors 
can  be  conferred  but  upon  few,  the  greater  num- 
ber will  be  always  discontented." 

"  The  discontent,"  said  the  princess,  "  which 
is  thus  unreasonable,  I  hope  that  I  shall  always 
have  spirit  to  despise,  and  you  power  to  repress." 

"  Discontent,"  answered  Rasselas,  "  will  not 
always  be  without  reason  under  the  most  just  and 
vigilant  administration  of  public  affairs.  None, 
however  attentive,  can  always  discover  that  merit, 
which  indigence  or  faction  may  happen  to  ob- 
scure ;  and  none,  however  powerful,  can  always 
reward  it.  Yet  he  that  sees  inferior  desert  ad- 
vanced above  him,  will  naturally  impute  that 
preference  to  partiality  or  caprice.  And,  indeed, 
it  can  scarcely  be  hoped  that  any  man,  however 
magnanimous  by  nature,  or  exalted  by  condition, 
will  be  able  to  persist  forever  in  the  fixed  and 
inexorable  justice  of  distribution.  He  will  some- 
times indulge  his  own  affections,  and  sometimes 
those  of  his  favorites ;  he  will  permit  some  to 
please  him  who  can  never  serve  him ;  he  will 
discover  in  those  whom  he  loves,  qualities  which 
in  reality  they  do  not  possess ;  and  to  those  from 
whom  he  receives  pleasure,  he  will  in  his  turn 
endeavor  to  give  it.  Thus  will  recommenda- 
tions sometimes  prevail  which  were  purchased 
by  money,  or  by  the  more  destructive  bribery 
of  flattery  and  servility. 


HO  RASSELAS. 

"He  that  has  much  to  do  will  do  something 
wrong,"  and  of  that  wrong  must  suffer  the  conse- 
quences ;  and  if  it  were  possible  that  he  should 
always  act  rightly,  yet  when  such  numbers  are  to 
judge  of  his  conduct,  the  bad  will  censure  and 
obstruct  him  by  malevolence,  and  the  good  some- 
times by  mistake. 

"The  highest  stations  cannot  therefore  hope 
to  be  the  abodes  of  happiness,  which  I  would 
willingly  believe  to  have  fled  from  thrones  and 
palaces  to  seats  of  humble  privacy  and  placid 
obscurity.  For  what  can  hinder  the  satisfaction, 
or  intercept  the  expectations  of  him  whose  abili- 
ties are  adequate  to  his  employments,  who  sees 
with  his  own  eyes  the  whole  circuit  of  his  influ- 
ence, who  chooses  by  his  own  knowledge  all 
whom  he  trusts,  and  whom  none  are  tempted  to 
deceive  by  hope  or  fear?  Surely  he  has  nothing 
to  do  but  to  love  and  to  be  loved,  to  be  virtuous 
and  to  be  happy." 

"  Whether  perfect  happiness  would  be  procured 
by  perfect  goodness,"  said  Nekayah,  "  this  world 
will  never  afford  an  opportunity  of  deciding.  But 
this,  at  least,  may  be  maintained,  that  we  do  not 
always  find  visible  happiness  in  proportion  to  visible 
virtue.  All  natural,  and  almost  all  political,  evils 
are  incident  alike  to  the  bad  and  good  j  they  are 
confounded  in  the  misery  of  a  famine,  and  not 
much  distinguished  in  the  fury  of  a  faction  ;  they 
sink  together  in  a  tempest,  and  are  driven  together 


HAPPINESS  AND   GOODNESS. 


Ill 


from  their  country  by  invaders.  All  their  virtue 
can  afford  is  quietness  of  conscience,  a  steady 
prospect  of  a  happier  state ;  this  may  enable  us 
to  endure  calamity  with  patience,  but  remember 
that  patience  must  suppose  pain." 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

RASSELAS    AND    NEKAYAH    CONTINUE   THEIR 
CONVERSATION. 


EAR  princess,"  said  Rasselas,  "  you  fall 
into  the  common  errors  of  exaggeratory 
declamation,  by  producing  in  a  familiar 
disquisition  examples  of  national  cal- 
amities, and  scenes  of  extensive  misery,  which  are 
found  in  books  rather  than  in  the  world,  and 
which,  as  they  are  horrid,  are  ordained  to  be  rare. 
Let  us  not  imagine  evils  which  we  do  not  feel,  nor 
injure  life  by  misrepresentations.  I  cannot  bear 
that  querulous  eloquence  which  threatens  every 
city  with  a  siege  like  that  of  Jerusalem,  that 
makes  famine  attend  on  every  flight  of  locusts, 
and  suspends  pestilence  on  the  wing  of  every 
blast  that  issues  from  the  south. 

"  On  necessary  and  inevitable  evils,  which  over- 
whelm kingdoms  at  once,  all  disputation  is  vain  : 
when  they  happen  they  must  be  endured.     Butjt- 
is  evident  that  these  bursts  of  universal  distress 


MARRIAGE.  1 13 

are  more  dreaded  than  felt ;  thousands  and  ten 
thousands^  flourish  in  youth,  and  wither  in  age, 
without  the  knowledge  of  any  other  than  domestic 
evils,  and  share  the  same  pleasures  and  vexations, 
whether  their  kings  are  mild  or  cruel,  whether  the 
armies  of  their  country  pursue  their  enemies  or 
retreat  before  them.  While  courts  are  disturbed 
with  intestine  competitions,  and  ambassadors  are 
negotiating  in  foreign  countries,  the  smith  still 
plies  his  anvil,  and  the  husbandman  drives  his 
plough  forward  ;  the  necessaries  of  life  are  re- 
quired and  obtained ;  and  the  successive  business 
of  the  seasons  continues  to  make  its  wonted 
revolutions. 

"  Let  us  cease  to  consider  what,  perhaps,  may ! 
never  happen,  and  what,  when  it  shall  happen,  j 
will  laugh  at  human  speculation.  We  will  not 
endeavor  to  modify  the  motions  of  the  elements, 
or  to  fix  the  destiny  of  kingdoms.  It  is  our 
business  to  consider  what  beings  like  us  may 
perform  ;  each  laboring  for  his  own  happiness,  by 
promoting  within  his  circle,  however  narrow,  the 
happiness  of  others. 

"  Marriage  is  evidently  the  dictate  of  Nature ; 
men  arid  'women  are  made  to  be  companions 
of  each-other,  and  therefore  I  cannot  be  per- 
suaded but  that  marriage  is  one  of  the  means  of 
happiness." 

"  I  know  not,"  said  the  princess,  "  whether  mar- 
riage be  more  than  one  of  the  innumerable  modes 

8 


114  RASSELAS. 

of  human  misery.  When  I  see  and  reckon  the 
various  forms  of  connubial  infelicity,  the  unex- 
pected causes  of  lasting  discord,  the  diversities  of 
temper,  the  oppositions  of  opinion,  the  rude  col- 
lisions of  contrary  desire  where  both  are  urged  by 
violent  impulses,  the  obstinate  contests  of  disagree- 
able virtues  where  both  are  supported  by  conscious- 
ness of  good  intention,  I  am  sometimes  disposed 
to  think  with  the  severer  casuists  of  most  nations, 
that  marriage  is  rather  permitted  than  approved, 
arid  that  none,  but  by  the  instigation  of  a  passion 
too  much  indulged,  entangle  themselves  with 
indissoluble  compacts." 

"  You  seem  to  forget,"  replied  Rasselas,  "  that 
you  have,  even  now,  represented  celibacy  as  less 
happy  than  marriage.  Both  conditions  may  be 
bad,  but  they  cannot  both  be  worst.  Thus  it 
happens  when  wrong  opinions  are  entertained, 
that  they  mutually  destroy  each  other,  and  leave 
the  mind  open  to  truth." 

"  I  did  not  expect,"  answered  the  princess,  "  to 
hear  that  imputed  to  falsehood  which  is  the  con- 
sequence only  of  frailty.  To  the  mind,  as  to  the 
eye,  it  is  difficult  to  compare,  with  exactness, 
objects  vast  in  their  extent,  and  various  in  their 
parts.  When  we  see  or  conceive  the  whole  at 
once,  we  readily  note  the  discriminations,  and 
decide  the  preference ;  but  of  two  systems,  of 
which  neither  can  be  surveyed  by  any  human 
being  in  its  full  compass  of  magnitude  and  multi- 


MARRIAGE.  1 15 

plicity  of  complication,  where  is  the  wonder  that, 
judging  of  the  whole  by  parts,  I  am  alternately 
affected  by  one  and  the  other,  as  either  presses 
on  my  memory  or  fancy?  We  differ  from  our- 
selves just  as  we  differ  from  each  other,  when  we 
see  only  part  of  the  question,  as  in  the  multifa- 
rious relations  of  politics  and  morality :  but  when 
we  perceive  the  whole  at  once,  as  in  numerical 
computations,  all  agree  in  one  judgment,  and 
none  ever  varies  his  opinion." 

"Let  us  not  add,"  said  the  prince,  "to  the  other 
evils  of  life,  the  bitterness  of  controversy,  nor  en- 
deavor to  vie  with  each  other  in  subtleties  of  ar- 
gument. \\[e  are  employed  in  a  search  of  which 
both  are  equally  to  enjoy  the  success,  or  suffer  by 
the  miscarriage.  It  is  therefore  fit  that  we  assist 
each  other,  You  surely  conclude  too  hastily  from 
the  infelicity  of  marriage  against  its  institution ; 
will  not  the  misery  of  life  prove  equally  that  life 
cannot  be  the  gift  of  heaven  ?  The  world  must 
be  peopled  by  marriage,  or  peopled  without  it.' 

"How  the  world  is  to  be  peopled,"  returned 
Nekayah,   '•'  is   not  my   care,   and    needs    not   be 
yours.     I  see  no  danger  that  the  present  genera 
tion  should  omit  to  leave  successors  behind  them 
we  are  not  now  inquiring  for  the  world,  but  for 
ourselves." 


I 


f&^f»~~ 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 


THE  DEBATE  OF  MARRIAGE  CONTINUED. 

|HE  good  of  the  whole,"  said  Rasselas 
"  is  the  same  with  the  good  of  all  its 
parts.  If  marriage  be  best  for  man- 
kind, it  must  be  evidently  best  for 
individuals,  or  a  permanent  and  necessary  duty 
must  be  the  cause  of  evil,  and  some  must  be  ine- 
vitably sacrificed  to  the  convenience  of  others. 
In  the  estimate  which  you  have  made  of  the  two 
states,  it  appears  that  the  incommodities  of  a  sin- 
gle life  are,  in  a  great  measure,  necessary  and  cer- 
tain, but  those  of  the  conjugal  state  accidental 
and  avoidable. 

"  I  cannot  forbear  to  flatter  myself,  that  pru- 
dence and  benevolence  will  make  marriage  happy. 
The  general  folly  of  mankind  is  the  cause  of  gen- 
eral complaint.  What  can  be  expected  but  dis- 
appointment and  repentance  from  a  choice  made 
in  the  immaturity  of  youth,  in  the  ardor  of  de- 
sire, without  judgment,  without  foresight,  without 
inquiry   after    conformity    of  opinions,  similarity 


LATE  MARRIAGES.  II  7 

of  manners,  rectitude  of  judgment,  or  purity  of 
sentiment? 

"  Such  is  the  common  process  of  marriage.  A 
youth^and  maiden  meeting  by  chance,  or  brought 
together  by  artifice,  exchange  glances,  reciprocate 
civilities,- go— home,    and    dream  of  each    other. 

Having    little    to    divert    attention,    or    diversify 

—  —  '■  •  1.—— — l '_  j 

thought,  they  find  themselves  uneasy  when  they 
ar_e_apart,  and  therefore  conclude  that  they  shall 
be  happy  together."  They  marry,  and  discover 
what  nothing  but  voluntary  blindness  before  had 
concealed  \  they  wear  out  life  in  altercations,  and 
chajgej^aturejyith  cruelty. 

"  From  those  early  marriages  proceeds  likewise 
the  rivalry  of  parents  and  children  :  the  son  is 
eagex-to  enjoy  the  world  before  the  father  is  will- 
ing to  forsake  it,  and  there  is  hardly  room  at  once 
for  two  generations.  The  daughter  begins  to 
bloom  before  the  mother  can  be  content  to  fade, 
and  neither  can  forbear  to  wish  for  the  absence  of 
the  other. 

"  Surely  all  these  evils  may  be  avoided  by  that 
deliberation  and  delay  which  prudence  prescribes 
to  irrevocable  choice.  In  the  variety  and  jollity 
of  youthful  pleasures,  life  maybe  well  enough  sup- 
ported without  the  help  of  a  partner.  Longer  time 
will  increase  experience,  and  wider  views  will  allow 
better  opportunities  of  inquiry  and  selection  ;  one 
advantage,  at  least,  will  be  certain,  —  the  parents 
will  be  visibly  older  than  their  children." 


1 1 8  KASSELAS. 

"  What  reason  cannot  collect,"  said  Nekayah, 
"  and  what  experiment  has  not  yet  taught,  can  be 
known  only  from  the  report  of  others.  I  have 
been  told  that  late  marriages  are  not  eminently 
happy.  This  is  a  question  too  important  to  be 
neglected,  and  I  have  often  proposed  it  to  those 
whose  accuracy  of  remark  and  comprehensiveness 
of  knowledge  made  their  suffrages  worthy  of  re- 
gard. They  have  generally  determined  that  it  is 
dangerous  for  a  man  and  woman  to  suspend  their 
fate  upon  each  other  at  a  time  when  opinions  are 
fixed,  and  habits  are  established ;  when  friend- 
ships have  been  contracted  on  both  sides,  when 
life  has  been  planned  into  method,  and  the  mind 
has  long  enjoyed  the  contemplation  of  its  own 
prospects. 

"  It  is  scarcely  possible  that  two,  travelling 
through  the  world  under  the  conduct  of  chance, 
should  have  been  both  directed  to  the  same  path, 
and  it  will  not  often  happen  that  either  will  quit 
the  track  which  custom  has  made  pleasing.  When 
the  desultory  levity  of  youth  has  settled  into  regu- 
larity, it  is  soon  succeeded  by  pride  ashamed  to 
yield,  or  obstinacy,  delighting  to  contend.  And 
even  though  mutual  esteem  produces  mutual  de- 
sire to  please,  time  itself,  as  it  modifies  unchange- 
ably the  external  mien,  determines  likewise  the 
direction  of  the  passion,  and  gives  an  inflexible 
rigidity  to  the  manners.  Long  customs  are  not 
easily  broken.     He  that  attempts  to  change   the 


LATE  MARRIAGES.  119 

course  of  his  own  life,  very  often  labors  in  vain ; 
andTvow  shall  we  do  that  for  others,  which  we  are 
seldom  able  to  do  for  ourselves?  " 

"  But  surely,"  interposed  the  prince,  "you  sup- 
pose the  chief  motive  of  choice  forgotten  or 
neglected.  Whenever  I  shall  seek  a  wife,  it  shall 
be  my  first  question,  whether  she  be  willing  to  be 
led  by  reason?" 

"  Thus  it  is,"  said  Nekayah,  "  that  philosophers 
are  deceived.  There  are  a  thousand  familiar  dis- 
putes which  reason  never  can  decide,  —  questions 
that  elude  investigation,  and  make  logic  ridicu-  . 
lous  ;  cases  where  something  must  be  done,  and 
where  little  can  be  said.  Consider  the  state  of 
mankind,  and  inquire  how  few  can  be  supposed 
to  act  upon  any  occasions,  whether  small  or  great, 
with  all  the  reasons  of  action  present  to  their 
minds.  Wretched  would  be  the  pair  above  all 
names  of  wretchedness,  who  should  be  doomed  to 
adjust  by  reason,  every  morning,  all  the  minute 
detail  of  a  domestic  day. 

"  Those  who  marry  at  an  advanced  age,  will 
probably  escape  the  encroachments  of  their  chil- 
dren, but,  in  diminution  of  this  advantage,  they 
wilLbe  likely  to  leave  them,  ignorant  and  helpless, 
to  a  guardian's  mercy  ;  or,  if  that  should  not  hap- 
pen, they  must  at  least  go  out  of  the  world  before 
they  see  those  whom  they  love  best  either  wise 
or  great. 


120  RASSELAS. 

"  From  their  children,  if  they  have  less  to  fear, 
they  have  less  also  to  hope ;  and  they  lose,  with- 
out equivalent,  the  joys  of  early  love,  and  the  con- 
venience of  uniting  with  manners  pliant,  and 
minds  susceptible  of  new  impressions,  which 
might  wear  away  their  dissimilitudes  by  long 
cohabitation,  as  soft  bodies,  by  continual  attrition, 
conform  their  surfaces  to  each  other. 

"I  believe  it  will  found  that  those  who  marry 
late  are  best  pleased  with  their  children,  and 
those  who  marry  early  with  their  partners." 

"The  union  of  these  two  affections,"  said 
Rasselas,  "  would  produce  all  that  could  be  wished. 
Perhaps  there  is  a  time  when  marriage  might 
unite  them,  —  a  time  neither  too  early  for  the 
father,  nor  too  late  for  the  husband." 

"  Every  hour,"  answered  the  princess,  "  con- 
firms my  prejudice  in  favor  of  the  position  so 
often  uttered  by  the  mouth  of  Imlac,  'That 
Nature  sets  her  gifts  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the 
left.'  Those  conditions  which  flatter  hope  and 
attract  desire  are  so  constituted,  that  as  we  ap- 
proach one  we  recede  from  another.  There  are 
goods  so  opposed  that  we  cannot  seize  both,  but, 
by  too  much  prudence,  may  pass  between  them 
at  too  great  a  distance  to  reach  either.  This  is 
often  the  fate  of  long  consideration ;  he  does 
nothing  who  endeavors  to  do  more  than  is  allowed 
to  humanity.     Flatter  not  yourself  with  contrarie- 


TRUE    UNIONS.  121 

ties  of  pleasure.  Of  the  blessings  set  before  you, 
make  your  choice  and  be  content.     No  man  can 

taste  the  fruits  of  autumn  while  he  is  delighting 
his-scent  with  the  tlowers  of  the  spring  :  no  man 
can,  at  the  same  time,  fill  his  cup  from  the  source 
and  from  the  mouth  of  the  Nile." 


CHAPTER   XXX. 


IMLAC     ENTERS,    AND    CHANGES   THE    CONVERSATION. 


ERE    Imlac    entered,  and    interrupted 
them.      "  Imlac,"  said   Rasselas,   "  I 
have   been  taking  from  the  princess 
the  dismal  history  of  private  life,  and 
am  almost  discouraged  from  farther  search." 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Imlac,  "  that  while  you 
are  making  the  choice  of  life  you  neglect  to  live. 
You  wander  about  a  single  city,  which,  however 
large  and  diversified,  can  now  afford  few  novelties, 
and  forget  that  you  are  in  a  country  famous  among 
the  earliest  monarchies  for  the  power  and  wisdom 
of  its  inhabitants,  —  a  country  where  the  sciences 
first  dawned  that  illuminate  the  world,  and  beyond 
which  the  arts  cannot  be  traced  of  civil  society  or 
domestic  life. 

"The  old  Egyptians  have  left  behind  them 
monuments  of  industry  and  power,  before  which 
all  European  magnificence  is  confessed  to  fade 


A   CHANGE  OF  CONVERSATION.  1 23 

away.  The  ruins  of  their  architecture  are  the 
schools  of  modern  builders,  and  from  the  wonders 
which  time  has  spared,  we  may  conjecture,  though 
uncertainly,  what  it  has  destroyed." 

"  My  curiosity,"  said  Rasselas,  "  does  not  very 
strongly  lead  me  to  survey  piles  of  stone  or 
mounds  of  earth ;  my  business  is  with  man.  I 
came  hither  not  to  measure  fragments  of  temples  / 
or  trace  choked  aqueducts,  but  to  look  upon  the 
various  scenes  of  the  present  world." 

"  The  things  that  are  now  before  us,"  said  the 
princess,  "  require  attention,  and  deserve  it. 
What  have  I  to  do  with  the  heroes  or  the  monu- 
ments of  ancient  times,  —  with  times  which  never 
can  return,  and  heroes,  whose  form  of  life  was 
different  from  all  that  the  present  condition  of 
mankind  requires  or  allows?" 

"  To  know  anything,"  returned  the  poet,  "  we 
must  kriowTts  effects  ;  to  see  men  we~TrTust'"3Sev"' 
their  works,  that  we  may  learn  what  reason  has 
dictated,  or  passion  has  incited,  and  find  what  are 
the  most  powerful  motives  of  action.  To  judge 
rightly  of  the  present,  we  must  oppose  it  to  the 
past ;  for  all  judgment  is  comparative,  and  of  the 
future  nothing  can  be  known.  The  truth  is,  that 
no  mind  is  much  employed  upon  the  present : 
recoil-  <  tion  and  anticipation  fill  up  almost  all  our 
moments.  Our  passions  are  joy  and  grief,  love 
and  hatred,  hope  and  fear.  Of  joy  and  grief  the 
past  is  the  object,  and  the  future  of  hope  and  fear  ; 


124  RASSELAS. 

even  love  and  hatred  respect  the  past,  for  the 
cause  must  have  been  before  the   effect. 

"  The  present  state  of  things  is  the  consequence 
of  the  former,  and  it  is  natural  to  inquire  what 
were  the  sources  of  the  good  that  we  enjoy,  or 
the  evil  that  we  suffer.  If  we  act  only  for  our- 
selves, to  neglect  the  study  of  history  is  not  pru- 
dent ;  if  we  are  intrusted  with  the  care  of  others, 
it  is  not  just.  Ignorance,  when  it  is  voluntary,  is 
criminal ;  and  he  may  properly  be  charged  with  evil 
who  refused  to  learn  how  he  might  prevent  it. 

"  There  is  no  part  of  history  so  generally  useful 
as  that  which  relates  to  the  progress  of  the  human 
mind,  the  gradual  improvement  of  reason,  the 
successive  advances  of  science,  the  vicissitudes  of 
learning  and  ignorance,  which  are  the  light  and 
darkness  of  thinking  beings,  the  extinction  and 
resuscitation  of  arts,  and  the  revolutions  of  the 
intellectual  world.  If  accounts  of  battles  and  in- 
vasions are  peculiarly  the  business  of  princes,  the 
useful  or  elegant  arts  are  not  to  be  neglected ; 
those  who  have  kingdoms  to  govern  have  under- 
standings to  cultivate. 

"  Example  is  always  more  efficacious  than  pre- 
cept. A  soldier  is  formed  in  war,  and  a  painter 
must  copy  pictures.  In  this,  contemplative  life 
has  the  advantage  :  great  actions  are  seldom  seen, 
but  the  labors  of  art  are  always  at  hand  for  those 
who  desire  to  know  what  art  has  been  able  to 
perform. 


EXAMPLE  AND  PRECEPT.  1 25 

"  When  the  eye  or  the  imagination  is  struck 
with  any  uncommon  work,  the  next  transition  of 
an  active  mind  is  to  the  means  by  which  it  was 
performed.  Here  begins  the  true  use  of  such 
contemplation  ;  we  enlarge  our  comprehension  by 
new  ideas,  and  perhaps  recover  some  art  lost  to 
mankind,  or  learn  what  is  less  perfectly  known  in 
our  own  country.  At  least  we  compare  our  own 
with  former  times,  and  either  rejoice  at  our  im- 
provements, or,  what  is  the  first  motion  towards 
good,  discover  our  defects." 

«Iam  willing,"  said  the  prince,  "  to  see  all  that 
can  deserve  my  search." 

"And  I,"  said  the  princess,  "shall  rejoice  to 
learn  something  of  the  manners  of  antiquity." 

"The  most  pompous  monument  of  Egyptian 
greatness,  and  one  of  the  most  bulky  works  of 
manual  industry,"  said  Imlac,  "are  the  Pyramids; 
fabrics  raised  before  the  time  of  history,  and  of 
which  the  earliest  narratives  afford  us  only  uncer- 
tain traditions.  Of  these  the  greatest  is  still 
standing,  very  little  injured  by  time." 

"  Let  us  visit  them  to-morrow,"  said  Nekayah. 
"  I  have  often  heard  of  the  Pyramids,  and  shall 
not  rest  till  I  have  seen  them  within  and  without 
with  my  own  eyes." 


-£> 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 


THEY   VISIT  THE   PYRAMIDS. 


HE  resolution  being  thus  taken,  they 
set  out  the  next  day.  They  laid 
tents  upon  their  camels,  being  re- 
solved to  stay  among  the  Pyramids, 
till  their  curiosity  was  fully  satisfied.  They  trav- 
elled gently,  turned  aside  to  everything  remark- 
able, stopped  from  time  to  time  and  conversed 
with  the  inhabitants,  and  observed  the  various 
appearances  of  towns  ruined  and  inhabited,  of 
wild  and  cultivated  Nature. 

When  they  came  to  the  great  pyramid,  they 
were  astonished  at  the  extent  of  the  base  and  the 
height  of  the  top.  Imlac  explained  to  them  the 
principles  upon  which  the  pyramidal  form  was 
chosen  for  a  fabric  intended  to  co-extend  its 
duration  with  that  of  the  world.  He  showed  that 
its  gradual  diminution  gave  it  such  stability  as 
defeated  all  the  common  attacks  of  the  elements, 


COURAGE.  127 

and  could  scarcely  be  overthrown  by  earthquakes 
themselves,  the  least  resistible  of  natural  vio- 
lence. A  concussion  that  should  shatter  the 
pyramid  would  threaten  the  dissolution  of  the 
continent. 

[  They  measured  all  its  dimensions,  and  pitched 
their  tents  at  its  foot.  Next  day  they  prepared  to 
enter  its  interior  apartments  ;  and,  having  hired  the 
common  guides,  climbed  up  to  the  first  passage, 
when  the  favorite  of  the  princess,  looking  into  the 
cavity,  stepped  back  and  trembled. 

"  Pekuah,"  said  the  princess,  "  of  what  art  thou 
afraid?" 

"  Of  the  narrow  entrance,"  answered  the  lady, 
"  and  of  the  dreadful  gloom.  I  dare  not  enter  a 
place  which  must  surely  be  inhabited  by  unquiet 
souls.  The  original  possessors  of  those  dreadful 
vaults  will  start  up  before  us,  and  perhaps  shut 
us  in  forever."  She  spoke,  and  threw  her  arms 
round  the  neck  of  her  mistress. 

"  If  all  your  fear  be  of  apparitions,"  said  the 
prince,  "  I  will  promise  you  safety ;  there  is  no 
danger  from  the  dead ;  he  that  is  once  buried 
will  be  seen  no  more." 

"That  the  dead  are  seen  no  more,"  said  Imlac, 
"  I  will  not  undertake  to  maintain  against  the 
concurrent  and  unvaried  testimony  of  all  ages 
and  of  all  nations.  There  is  no  people,  rude 
or  learned,  among  whom  apparitions  of  the  dead 
are  not  related  and  believed.    This  opinion,  which 


128  RASSELAS. 

perhaps  prevails  as  far  as  human  nature  is  dif- 
fused, could  become  universal  only  by  its  truth ; 
those  that  never  heard  of  one  another  would  not 
have  agreed  in  a  tale  which  nothing  but  experi- 
ence can  make  credible.  That  it  is  doubted  by 
single  cavillers  can  very  little  weaken  the  gen- 
eral evidence,  and  some  who  deny  it  with  their 
tongues  confess  it  by  their  fears. 

"  Yet  I  do  not  mean  to  add  new  terrors  to 
those  which  have  already  seized  upon  Pekuah. 
There  can  be  no  reason  why  spectres  should 
haunt  the  pyramid  more  than  other  places,  or 
why  they  should  have  power  or  will  to  hurt  inno- 
cence and  purity.  Our  entrance  is  no  violation 
of  their  privileges ;  we  can  take  nothing  from 
them,  how  then  can  we  offend  them?" 

"  My  dear  Pekuah,"  said  the  princess,  "  I  will 
always  go  before  you,  and  Imlac  shall  follow  you. 
Remember  that  you  are  the  companion  of  the 
princess  of  Abyssinia." 

"  If  the  princess  is  pleased  that  her  servant 
should  die,"  returned  the  lady,  "  let  her  com- 
mand some  death  less  dreadful  than  enclosure  in 
this  horrid  cavern.  You  know  I  dare  not  disobey 
you  ;  I  must  go  if  you  command  me ;  but,  if  I 
once  enter,  I  never  shall  come  back." 

The  princess  saw  that  her  fear  was  too  strong 
for  expostulation  or  reproof;  and  embracing  her, 
told  her  that  she  should  stay  in  the  tent  till  her 
return.     Pekuah  was  yet  not  satisfied,  but  en- 


COURAGE. 


I2Q 


treated  the  princess  not  to  pursue  so  dreadful  a 
purpose  as  that  of  entering  the  recesses  of  the 
pyramid.  "  Though  I  cannot  teach  courage," 
said  Nekayah,  "  I  must  not  learn  cowardice ; 
nor  leave  at  last  undone  what  I  came  hither 
only  to  do." 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 


THEY    ENTER    THE    PYRAMID. 


EKUAH  descended  to  the  tents,  and 
the  rest  entered  the  pyramid.  They 
passed  through  the  galleries,  surveyed 
the  vaults  of  marble,  and  examined 
the  chest  in  which  the  body  of  the  founder  is 
supposed  to  have  been  reposited.  They  then  sat 
down  in  one  of  the  most  spacious  chambers  to 
rest  awhile,  before  they  attempted  to  return. 

"  We  have  now,"  said  Imlac,  "  gratified  our 
minds  with  an  exact  view  of  the  greatest  work  of 
man,  except  the  wall  of  China. 

"  Of  the  wall  it  is  very  easy  to  assign  the  mo- 
tive. It  secured  a  wealthy  and  timorous  nation 
from  the  incursions  of  barbarians,  whose  unskil- 
fulness  in  arts  made  it  easier  for  them  to  supply 
their  wants  by  rapine  than  by  industry,  and  who 
from  time  to  time  poured  in  upon  the  habitations 
of  peaceful  commerce  as  vultures  descend  upon 
domestic  fowl.  Their  celerity  and  fierceness 
made  the  wall  necessary,  and  their  ignorance 
made  it  efficacious. 


THE  PYRAMID.  131 

"  But  for  the  Pyramids  no  reason  has  ever 
been  given,  adequate  to  the  cost  and  labor  of  the 
work.  The  narrowness  of  the  chamber  proves 
that  it  could  afford  no  retreat  from  enemies,  and 
treasures  might  have  been  reposited  at  far  less 
expense  with  equal  security.  It  seems  to  have 
been  Greeted  only  in  compliance  with  that  hunger 
of  Imagination  which  preys  incessantly  upon  life, 
and  must  be  always  appeased  by  some  employe 
ment.  Those  who  have  already  all  that  they  can 
enjoy  must  enlarge  their  desires.  He  that  has 
built  for  use,  till  use  is  supplied,  must  begin  to 
build  for  vanity,  and  extend  his  plan  to  the  ut- 
most power  of  human  performance,  that  he  may 
not  be  soon  reduced  to  form  another  wish. 

"  I  consider  this  mighty  structure  as  a  monu- 
ment of  the  insufficiency  of  human  enjoyments. 
A  king,  whose  power  is  unlimited,  and  whose  treas- 
ures surmount  all   real  and   imaginary  wants,  is 
compelled  to  solace,  by  the  erection  of  a  pyramid, 
the  satiety  of  dominion  and  tastelessness  of  pleas- 
ures, and  to  amuse  the  tediousness  of  declining 
life,  by  seeing  thousands  laboring  without  end,  and 
one    stone    for   no   purpose    laid    upon    another. 
Whoever  thou  art,  that,  not  content  with  a  mode-  j 
rate  condition,  imaginest  happiness  in  royal  mag-  I 
nificence,  and  dreamest  that  command  or  riches  I 
can  feed  the  appetite  of  novelty  with  perpetual  , 
gratifications,   survey  the   Pyramids  and   confess 
thy  folly  !  " 


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


=j] 


.kj&jiL&jaj8^^U!^Liu8^^ 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

THE   PRINCESS   MEETS   WITH    AN   UNEXPECTED 
MISFORTUNE. 


||HEY  rose  up  and  returned  through  the 
cavity  at  which  they  had  entered,  and 
the  princess  prepared  for  her  favorite  a 
H  long  narrative  of  dark  labyrinths  and 
costly  rooms,  and  of  the  different  impressions 
which  the  varieties  of  the  way  had  made  upon 
her.  But  when  they  came  to  their  train,  they 
found  every  one  silent  and  dejected  ;  the  men  dis- 
covered shame  and  fear  in  their  countenances, 
and  the  women  were  weeping  in  their  tents. 

What  had  happened,  they  did  not  try  to  con- 
jecture, but  immediately  inquired.  "  You  had 
scarcely  entered  into  the  pyramid,"  said  one  of 
the  attendants,  "  when  a  troop  of  Arabs  rushed 
upon  us  :  we  were  too  few  to  resist  them,  and  too 
slow  to  escape.  They  were  about  to  search  the 
tents,  set  us  on  our  camels,  and  drive  us  along 


A  MISFORTUNE.  1 33 

before  them,  when  the  approach  of  some  Turkish 
horsemen  put  them  to  flight ;  but  they  seized  the 
lady  Pekuah,  with  her  two  maids,  and  carried 
them  away ;  the  Turks  are  now  pursuing  them  by 
our  instigation,  but  I  fear  they  will  not  be  able  to 
overtake  them." 

The  princess  was  overpowered  with  surprise  and 
grief.  Rasselas,  in  the  first  heat  of  his  resent- 
ment, ordered  his  servants  to  follow  him,  and  pre- 
pared to  pursue  the  robbers  with  his  sabre  in  his 
hand.  "  Sir,"  said  Imlac,  "  what  can  you  hope 
from  violence  or  valor?  The  Arabs  are  mounted 
on  horses  trained  to  battle  and  retreat ;  we  have 
only  beasts  of  burden.  By  leaving  our  present 
station  we  may  lose  the  princess,  but  cannot  hope 
to  regain  Pekuah." 

In  a  short  time  the  Turks  returned,  having  not 
been  able  to  reach  the  enemy.  The  princess  burst 
out  into  new  lamentations,  and  Rasselas  could 
scarcely  forbear  to  reproach  them  with  cowardice  ; 
but  Imlac  was  of  opinion  that  the  escape  of  the 
Arabs  was  no  addition  to  their  misfortune,  for  per- 
haps they  would  have  killed  their  captives  rather 
than  have  resigned  them. 


it 


[  (>-»  >->-»->-  JH>-«->^-»-g  >»  »  »  3)   »  > 


jHfrfci  <~o-^-<-^-*-g\^-»^-^»^h»-9-^<! 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

THEY    RETURN   TO   CAIRO    WITHOUT   PEKUAH. 


HERE  was  nothing  to  be  hoped  from 
longer  stay.  They  returned  to  Cairo, 
repenting  of  their  curiosity,  censuring 
the  negligence  of  the  government,  la- 
menting their  own  rashness,  which  had  neglected 
to  procure  a  guard,  imagining  many  expedients  by 
which  the  loss  of  Pekuah  might  have  been  pre- 
vented, and  resolving  to  do  something  for  her  re- 
covery, though  none  could  find  anything  proper 
to  be  done. 

/  JNlekayah  retired  to  her  chamber,  where  her 
'  women  attempted  to  comfort  her,  by  telling  her 
that  all  had  their  troubles,  and  that  Lady  Pekuah 
had  enjoyed  much  happiness  in  the  world  for  a 
long  time,  and  might  reasonably  expect  a  change 
of  fortune.  They  hoped  that  some  good  would 
befall  her  wheresoever  she  was,  and  that  their 
mistress  would  find  another  friend  who  might  sup- 
ply her  place.         ^.4^ ' 


LOSS  OF  PEKUAH.  1 35 

The  princess  made  them  no  answer,  and  they 
continued  the  form  of  condolence,  not  much 
grieved  in  their  hearts  that  the  favorite  was  lost. 

Next  day  the  prince  presented  to  the  Bassa  a 
memorial  of  the  wrong  which  he  had  suffered,  and 
a  petition  for  redress.  The  Bassa  threatened  to 
punish  the  robbers,  but  did  not  attempt  to  catch 
them,  nor  indeed  could  any  account  or  descrip- 
tion be  given  by  which  he  might  direct  the 
pursuit. 

It  s_oon  appeared  that  nothing  would  be  done 
by  authority.  Governors  being  accustomed  to 
hear  of  more  crimes  than  they  can  punish,  and 
more  wrongs  than  they  can  redress,  set  themselves 
at  ease  by  indiscriminate  negligence,  and  presently 
forget  the  requ^l  wh.cn  they  lose  sight  of  the 
petitioner.  _ 

Imlac  then  endeavored  to  gain  some  intelligence  ./ 
by  private  agents.  He  found  many  who  pre- 
tended to  an  exact  knowledge  of  all  the  haunts  of 
the  Arabs,  and  to  regular  correspondence  with 
their  chiefs,  and  who  readily  undertook  the  recov- 
ery of  Pekuah.  Of  these,  some  were  furnished 
with  money  for  their  journey,  and  came  back  no 
more ;  some  were  liberally  paid  for  accounts 
which  a  few  days  discovered  to  be  false.  But  the 
princess  would  not  suffer  any  means,  however  im- 
probable, to  be  left  untried.  While  she  was  doing 
something,  she  kept  her  hope  alive.  As  one  ex- 
pedient failed,  another  was  suggested  ;  when  one 


136  RASSELAS. 

messenger  returned  unsuccessful,  another  was  des- 
patched to  a  different  quarter. 

Two  months  had  now  passed,  and  of  Pekuah 
nothing  had  been  heard  ;  the  hopes  which  they 
had  endeavored  to  raise  in  each  other  grew  more 
languid,  and  the  princess,  when  she  saw  nothing 
more  to  be  tried,  sunk  down  inconsolable  in  hope- 
less dejection.  A  thousand  times  she  reproached 
herself  with  the  easy  compliance  by  which  she 
permitted  her  favorite  to  stay  behind  her.  "  Had 
not  my  fondness,"  said  she,  "lessened  my  au- 
thority, Pekuah  had  not  dared  to  talk  of  her 
terrors.  She  ought  to  have  feared  me  more  than 
spectres.  A  severe  look  would  have  overpowered 
her;  a  peremptory  command  would  have  com- 
pelled obedience.  Why  did  foolish  indulgence 
prevail  upon  me  ?  Why  did  I  not  speak,  and  re- 
fuse to  hear? " 

"  Great  princess,"  said  Imlac,  "  do  not  reproach 
yourself  for  your  virtue,  or  consider  that  as  blame- 
able  by  which  evil  has  accidentally  been  caused. 
Your  tenderness  for  the  timidity  of  Pekuah  was 
generous  and  kind.  When  we  act  according  to 
our  duty,  we  commit  the  event  to  Him  by  whose 
laws  our  actions  are  governed,  and  who  will  suffer 
none  to  be  finally  punished  for  obedience.  When, 
in  prospect  of  some  good,  whether  natural  or 
moral,  we  break  the  rules  prescribed  us,  we  with- 
draw from  the  direction  of  superior  wisdom,  and 
take  all  consequences  upon  ourselves.     Man  can- 


LOSS  OF  PEKUAH.  137 

not  so  far  know  the  connection  of  causes  and 
events  as  that  he  may  venture  to  do  wrong  in 
order  to  do  right.  When  we  pursue  our  end  by 
lawful  means,  we  may  always  console  our  miscar- 
riage by  the  hope  of  future  recompense.  When 
we  consult  only  our  own  policy,  and  attempt  to  find 
a  nearer  way  to  good,  by  overleaping  the  settled 
boundaries  of  right  and  wrong,  we  cannot  be 
happy  even  by  success,  because  we  cannot  escape 
the  consciousness  of  our  fault ;  but,  if  we  miscarry, 
the  disappointment  is  irremediably  imbittered. 
How  comfortless  is  the  sorrow  of  him  who  feels 
at  once  the  pangs  of  guilt,  and  the  vexation  of 
calamity  which  guilt  has  brought  upon  him  ! 

"  Consider,  princess,  what  would  have  been 
your  condition,  if  the  Lady  Pekuah  had  entreated 
to  accompany  you,  and,  being  compelled  to  stay 
in  the  tents,  had  been  carried  away ;  or  how  would 
you  have  borne  the  thought,  if  you  had  forced  her 
into  the  pyramid,  and  she  had  died  before  you  in 
agonies  of  terror?  " 

"  Had  either  happened,"  said  Nekayah,  "  I 
could  not  have  endured  life  till  now  ;  I  should  have 
been  tortured  to  madness  by  the  remembrance  of 
such  cruelty,  or  must  have  pined  away  in  abhor- 
rence of  myself." 

"This  at  least,"   said   Imlac,  "is  the  present 
reward  of  virtuous  conduct,  that  no  unlucky  con 
sequence  can  oblige  us  to  repent  it." 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 


THE    PRINCESS    LANGUISHES    FOR    WANT    OF   PEKUAH. 

EKAYAH,  being  thus  reconciled  to  her- 
self, found  that  no  evil  is  insupportable 
but  that  which  is  accompanied  with 
consciousness  of  wrong.    She  was  from 
that  time  delivered  from  the  violence  of  tempestu- 
ous sorrow,  and  sunk  into  silent  pensiveness  and 
gloomy  tranquillity.    She  sat  from  morning  to  even- 
ing recollecting  all  that  had  been  done  or  said  by 
her  Pekuah,  treasured  up  with  care  every  trifle  on 
which  Pekuah  had  set  an  accidental  value,  and 
which  might  recall  to  mind  any  little  incident  or 
careless    conversation.     The    sentiments    of  her, 
whom  she  now  expected  to  see  no  more,  were  trea- 
j  sured  in  her  memory  as  rules  of  life,  and  she  delib- 
erated to  no  other  end  than  to  conjecture  on  any 
joccasion  what  would  have  been  the  opinion  and 
'counsel  of  Pekuah. 

The  women  by  whom  she  was  attended  knew 
nothing  of  her  real  condition,  and  therefore  she 


RETIREMENT.  139 

could  not  talk  to  them  but  with  caution  and  re- 
serve. She  began  to  remit  her  curiosity,  having 
no  great  care  to  collect  notions  which  she  had  no 
convenience  of  uttering.  Rasselas  endeavored 
first  to  comfort,  and  afterwards  to  divert  her ;  he 
hired  musicians,  to  whom  she  seemed  to  listen, 
but  did  not  hear  them,  and  procured  masters  to 
instruct  her  in  various  arts,  whose  lectures,  when 
they  visited  her  again,  were  again  to  be  repeated. 
She  had  lost  her  taste  of  pleasure,  and  her  ambi- 
tion of  excellence.  And  her  mind,  though  forced 
into  short  excursions,  always  recurred  to  the  image 
of  her  friend. 

Imlac  was  every  morning  earnestly  enjoined  to 
renew  his  inquiries,  and  was  asked  every  night 
whether  he  had  yet  heard  of  Pekuah,  till,  not  be- 
ing able  to  return  the  princess  the  answer  that  she 
desired,  he  was  less  and  less  willing  to  come  into 
her  presence.  She  observed  his  backwardness, 
and  commanded  him  to  attend  her.  "  You  are 
not,"  said  she,  "  to  confound  impatience  with  re- 
sentment, or  to  suppose  that  I  charge  you  with 
negligence,  because  I  repine  at  your  unsuccessful- 
ness.  I  do  not  much  wonder  at  your  absence  ;  I 
know  that  the  unhappy  are  never  pleasing,  and 
that  all  naturally  avoid  the  contagion  of  misery. 
To  hear  complaints  is  wearisome  alike  to  the 
wretched  and  the  happy.  For  who  would  cloud, 
by  adventitious  grief,  the  short  gleams  of  gayety 
which  life  allows  us ;  or  who,  that   is   struggling 


w 


140  RASSELAS. 

under  his  own  evils,  will  add  to  them  the  miseries 
of  another? 

"  T,he  time  is  at  hand,  when  none  shall  be  dis- 
turbed any  longer  by  the  sighs  of  Nekayah ;  my 
search  after  happiness  is  now  at  an  end.  I  am 
resolved  to  retire  from  the  world  with  all  its  flat- 
teries and  deceits,  and  will  hide  myself  in  solitude, 
without  any  other  care  than  to  compose  my 
thoughts,  and  regulate  my  hours  by  a  constant 
succession  of  innocent  occupations,  till,  with  a 
mind  purified  from  all  earthly  desires,  I  shall 
enter  into  that  state  to  which  all  are  hastening, 
and  in  which  I  hope  again  to  enjoy  the  friendship 
of  Pekuah." 

"  Do  not  entangle  your  mind,"  said  Imlac,  "  by 
irrevocable  determinations,  nor  increase  the  burden 
of  life  by  a  voluntary  accumulation  of  misery  :  the 
weariness  of  retirement  will  continue  or  increase 
when  the  loss  of  Pekuah  is  forgotten.  That  you 
have  been  deprived  of  one  pleasure  is  no  very 
good  reason  for  rejection  of  the  rest." 

"Since  Pekuah  was  taken  from  me,"  said  the 
princess,  "  I  have  no  pleasure  to  reject  or  to  re- 
tain. She  that  has  no  one  to  love  or  trust  has 
little  to  hope*  She  wants  the  radical  principle  of 
happiness.  We  may  perhaps  allow  that  what  sat- 
isfaction this  world  can  afford,  must  arise  from  the 
conjunction  of  wealth,  knowledge,  and  goodness. 
Wealth  is  nothing  but  as  it  is  bestowed,  and  knowl- 
edge nothing  but  as  it  is  communicated  :  they  must 


BENEFIT  OP  ACTION.  141 

therefore  be  imparted  to  others,  and  to  whom 
could  I  now  delight  to  impart  them  ?  Goodness 
affoida.  the  only  comfort  which  can  be  enjoyed 
without  a  partner,  and  goodness  may  be  practised 
in  retirement." 

"  How  far  solitude  may  admit  goodness,  or  ad- 
vance it,  I  shall  not,"  replied  Imlac,  "dispute  at 
present.  Remember  the  confession  of  the  pious 
hermit.  You  will  wish  to  return  into  the  world, 
when  the  image  of  your  companion  has  left  your 
thoughts." 

"That  time,"  said  Nekayah,  "will  never  come. 
The  generous  frankness,  the  modest  obsequious- 
ness, and  the  faithful  secrecy  of  my  dear  Pekuah, 
will  always  be  more  missed  as  I  shall  live  longer 
to,  see  vice  and  folly." 

"  The  state  of  a  mind  oppressed  with  a  sudden 
calamity,"  said  Imlac,  "  is  like  that  of  the  fabulous 
inhabitants  of  the  new-created  earth,  who,  when 
the  first  night  came  upon  them,  supposed  that 
day  would  never  return.  When  the  clouds  of 
sorrow  gather  over  us  we  see  nothing  beyond 
them,  nor  can  imagine  how  they  will  be  dispelled  ; 
yet  a  new  day  succeeded  to  the  night,  and  sorrow 
is  never  long  without  a  dawn  of  ease.  But  they 
who  restrain  themselves  from  receiving  comfort, 
do  as  the  savages  would  have  done,  had  they  put 
out  their  eyes  when  it  was  dark.  Our  minds,  like 
our  bodies,  are  in  continual  flux ;  something  is 
hourly  lost,   and    something   acquired.     To    lose 


*42  RASSELAS. 

much  at  once  is  inconvenient  to  either ;  but  while 
the  vital  powers  remain  uninjured,  Nature  will  find 
the  means  of  reparation.  Distance  has  the  same 
effect  on  the  mind  as  on  the  eye ;  and  while  we 
glide  along  the  stream  of  time,  whatever  we  leave 
behind  us  is  always  lessening,  and  that  which  we 
approach  increasing  in  magnitude.  Do  not  suffer 
life  to  (stagnate; :  it  will  grow  muddy  for  want  of 
motion ;  commit  yourself  again  to  the  current  of 
the  world :  Pekuah  will  vanish  by  degrees ;  you 
will  meet  in  your  way  some  other  favorite,  or  learn 
to  diffuse  yourself  in  general  conversation." 

"At  least,"  said  the  prince,  "do  not  despair 
before  all  remedies  have  been  tried ;  the  inquiry 
after  the  unfortunate  lady  is  still  continued,  and 
shall  be  carried  on  with  yet  greater  diligence,  on 
condition  that  you  will  promise  to  wait  a  year  for 
the  event,  without  any  unalterable  resolution." 

Nekayah  thought  this  a  reasonable  demand, 
and  made  the  promise  to  her  brother,  who  had 
been  advised  by  Imlac  to  require  it.  Irnlac  had, 
indeed,  no  great  hope  of  regaining  Pekuah ;  but 
he  supposed,  that  if  he  could  secure  the  interval 
of  a  year,  the  princess  would  be  then  in  no  danger 
of  a  cloister. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

■P    PEKUAH    IS    STILL    REMEMBERED.       THE    PROGRESS 

OF   SORROW. 


EKAYAH,  seeing  that  nothing  was 
omitted  for  the  recovery  of  her  fa- 
vorite, and  having,  by  her  promise, 
set  her  intention  of  retirement  at  a 
distance,  began  imperceptibly  to  return  to  com- 
mon cares  and  common  pleasures.  She  rejoiced, 
without  her  own  consent,  at  the  suspension  of 
her  sorrows,  and  sometimes  caught  herself,  with 
indignation,  in  the  act  of  turning  away  her  mind 
from  the  remembrance  of  her,  whom  yet  she 
resolved  never  to  forget. 

She  then  appointed  a  certain  hour  of  the  day 
for  meditation  on  the  merits  and  fondness  of 
Pekuah,  and  for  some  weeks  retired  constantly  at 
the  time  fixed,  and  returned  with  her  eyes  swollen 
and  her  countenance  clouded.  By  degrees  she 
grew  less  scrupulous,  and  suffered  any  important 
and  pressing  avocation   to  delay  the   tribute    of 


144  RASSELAS. 

daily  tears.  She  then  yielded  to  less  occasions, 
sometimes  forgot  what  she  was  indeed  afraid  to 
remember,  and  at  last  wholly  released  herself  from 
the  duty  of  periodical  affliction. 

Her  real  love  of  Pekuah  was  yet  not  dimin- 
ished. A  thousand  occurrences  brought  her  back 
to  memory,  and  a  thousand  wants,  which  nothing 

/\  but  the  confidence  of  friendship  can  supply,  made 
her  frequently  regretted.     She  therefore  solicited 

K '/  Imlac  never  to  desist  from  inquiry,  and  to  leave 
no  art  of  intelligence  untried,  that  at  least  she 
might  have  the  comfort  of  knowing  that  she  did 
not  suffer  by  negligence  or  sluggishness.  "  Yet 
what,"  said  she,  "  is  to  be  expected  from  our  pur- 
suit of  happiness,  when  we  find  the  state  of  life 
to  be  such,  that  happiness  itself  is  the  cause  of 
misery?  Why  should  we  endeavor  to  attain  that 
of  which  the  possession  cannot  be  secured?  I 
shall  henceforward  fear  to  yield  my  heart  to  ex- 
cellence, however  bright,  or  to  fondness,  however 
tender,  lest  I  should  lose  again  what  I  have  lost  in 
Pekuah." 


MH— MMKMMMTBtfBBBHfiB  i°gijw  PPCQQocgiwOBiica^oc.^ 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 


THE    PRINCESS    HEARS   NEWS   OF   PEKUAH. 


N  seven  months,  one  of  the  messengers, 
who  had  been  sent  away  upon  the  day 
when  the  promise  was  drawn  from  the 
princess,  returned,  after  many  unsuc- 
cessful rambles,  from  the  borders  of  Nubia,  with 
an  account  that  Pekuah  was  in  the  hand  of  an 
Arab  chief,  who  possessed  a  castle  or  fortress  on 
the  extremity  of  Egypt.  The  Arab,  whose  revenue 
was  plunder,  was  willing  to  restore  her,  with  her 
two  attendants,  for  two  hundred  ounces  of  gold. 

The  price  was  no  subject  of  debate.  The  prin- 
cess was  in  ecstasies  when  she  heard  that  her 
favorite  was  alive,  and  might  so  cheaply  be  ran- 
somed. She  could  not  think  of  delaying  for  a 
moment  Pekuah's  happiness  or  her  own,  but  en- 
treated her  brother  to  send  back  the  messenger 
with  the  sum  required.  Imlac  being  consulted, 
was  not  very  confident  of  the  veracity  of  the  re- 
later,  and  was  still  more  doubtful  of  the  Arab's 

10 


146  RASSELAS. 

faith,  who  might,  if  he  were  too  liberally  trusted, 
detain  at  once  the  money  and  the  captives.  He 
thought  it.  dangerous  to  put  themselves  in  the 
power  of  the  Arab  by  going  into  his  district,  and 
could  not  expect  that  the  rover  would  so  much 
expose  himself  as  to  come  into  the  lower  country, 
where  he  might  be  seized  by  the  forces  of  the 
Bassa. 

It  is  difficult  to  negotiate  where  neither  will 
trust.  But  Imlac,  after  some  deliberation,  di- 
rected the  messenger  to  propose  that  Pekuah 
should  be  conducted  by  ten  horsemen  to  the 
monastery  of  St.  Antony,  which  is  situated  in  the 
deserts  of  Upper  Egypt,  where  she  should  be  met 
by  the  same  number,  and  her  ransom  should  be 
paid. 

That  no  time  might  be  lost,  as  they  expected 
that  the  proposal  would  not  be  refused,  they  im- 
mediately began  their  journey  to  the  monastery, 
and,  when  they  arrived,  Imlac  went  forward  with 
the  former  messenger  to  the  Arab's  fortress.  Ras- 
selas  was  desirous  to  go  with  them  ;  but  neither 
his  sister  nor  Imlac  would  consent.  The  Arab, 
according  to  the  custom  of  his  nation,  observed 
the  laws  of  hospitality  with  great  exactness  to 
those  who  put  themselves  into  his  power,  and  in 
a  few  days  brought  Pekuah  with  her  maids,  by 
easy  journeys,  to  the  place  appointed,  where,  re- 
ceiving the  stipulated  price,  he  restored  her  with 
great  respect  to  liberty  and  her  friends,  and  under- 


RETURN  OF  PEKUAH.  147 

took  to  conduct  them  back  towards  Cairo  beyond 
all  danger  of  robbery  or  violence. 

The  princess  and  her  favorite  embraced  each 
other  with  transport  too  violent  to  be  expressed,  ,. 
and  went  out  together  to  pour  the  tears  of  ten- 
derness in  secret,  and  exchange  professions  of 
kindness  and  gratitude.  After  a  few  hours  they 
returned  into  the  refectory  of  the  convent,  where, 
in  the  presence  of  the  prior  and  his  brethren, 
the  prince  required  of  Pekuah  the  history  of  her 
adventures. 


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WM8MH 

CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 


3 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  THE  LADY  PEKUAH. 

i]T  what  time,  and  in  what  manner  I  was 
forced  away,"  said  Pekuah,  "your 
servants  have  told  you.  The  sudden- 
ness of  the  event  struck  me  with  sur- 
prise, and  I  was  at  first  rather  stupefied  than 
agitated  with  any  passion  of  either  fear  or  sorrow. 
My  confusion  was  increased  by  the  speed  and  tu- 
mult of  our  flight,  while  we  were  followed  by  the 
Turks,  who,  as  it  seemed,  soon  despaired  to  over- 
take us,  or  were  afraid  of  those  whom  they  made 
a  show  of  menacing. 

"  When  the  Arabs  saw  themselves  out  of  danger 
they  slackened  their  course,  and  as  I  was  less 
harassed  by  external  violence,  I  began  to  feel 
more  uneasiness  in  my  mind.  After  some  time 
we  stopped  near  a  spring  shaded  with  trees  in 
a  pleasant  meadow,  where  we  were  set  upon  the 
ground,  and  offered  such  refreshments  as  our 
masters  were  partaking.     I   was   suffered   to   sit 


PEK UAH'S  ADVENTURES.  1 49 

with  my  maids  apart  from  the  rest,  and  none  at- 
tempted to  comfort  or  insult  us.  Here  I  first 
began  to  feel  the  full  weight  of  my  misery.  The 
girls  sat  weeping  in  silence,  and  from  time  to  time 
looked  on  me  for  succour.  I  knew  not  to  what 
condition  we  were  doomed,  nor  could  conjecture 
where  would  be  the  place  of  our  captivity,  or 
whence  to  draw  any  hope  of  deliverance.  I  was 
in  the  hands  of  robbers  and  savages,  and  had  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  their  pity  was  more  than 
their  justice,  or  that  they  would  forbear  the  grati- 
fication of  any  ardor  of  desire  or  caprice  of 
cruelty.  I,  however,  kissed  my  maids,  and  en- 
deavored to  pacify  them  by  remarking,  that  we 
were  yet  treated  with  decency,  and  that,  since  we 
were  now  carried  beyond  pursuit,  there  was  no 
danger  of  violence  to  our  lives. 

"  When  we  were  to  be  set  again  on  horseback, 
my  maids  clung  round  me,  and  refused  to  be 
parted,  but  I  commanded  them  not  to  irritate 
those  who  had  us  in  their  power.  We  travelled 
the  remaining  part  of  the  day  through  an  unfre- 
quented and  pathless  country,  and  came  by  moon- 
light to  the  side  of  a  hill,  where  the  rest  of  the 
troop  was  stationed.  Their  tents  were  pitched, 
and  their  fires  kindled,  and  our  chief  was  wel- 
comed as  a  man  much  beloved  by  his  dependants. 

"  We  were  received  into  a  large  tent,  where  we 
found  women  who  had  attended  their  husbands 
in  the  expedition.     They  set  before  us  the  supper 


150  RASSELAS. 

which  they  had  provided,  and  I  ate  rather  to  en- 
courage my  maids,  than  to  comply  with  any  ap- 
petite of  my  own.  When  the  meat  was  taken 
away,  they  spread  the  carpets  for  repose.  I  was 
weary,  and  hoped  to  find  in  sleep  that  remission 
of  distress  which  Nature  seldom  denies.  Ordering 
myself  therefore  to  be  undressed,  I  observed  that 
the  women  looked  very  earnestly  upon  me,  not 
expecting,  I  suppose,  to  see  me  so  submissively 
attended.  (When  my  upper  vest  was  taken  off, 
they  were  apparently  struck  with  the  splendor  of 
my  clothes,  and  one  of  them  timorously  laid  her 
hand  upon  the  embroidery.  She  then  went  out, 
and  in  a  short  time  came  back  with  another  wo- 
man, who  seemed  to  be  of  higher  rank  and  greater 
authority.  She  did,  at  her  entrance,  the  usual  act 
of  reverence,  and,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  placed 
me  in  a  smaller  tent,  spread  with  finer  carpets, 
\,  where  I  spent  the  night  quietly  with  my  maids. 
"  In  the  morning,  as  I  was  sitting  on  the  grass, 
the  chief  of  the  troop  came  towards  me.  I  rose 
up  to  receive  him,  and  he  bowed  with  great  re- 
spect. '  Illustrious  lady,'  said  he,  '  my  fortune  is 
better  than  I  had  presumed  to  hope  :  I  am  told 
by  my  women  that  I  have  a  princess  in  my  camp.' 
'Sir,'  answered  I,  'your  women  have  deceived 
themselves  and  you  :  I  am  not  a  princess,  but  an 
unhappy  stranger,  who  intended  soon  to  have  left 
this  country,  in  which  I  am  now  to  be  imprisoned 
forever.'     '  Whoever   or   whencesoever  you  are,' 


POWER   OF   GOLD.  151 

returned  the  Arab,  '  your  dress,  and  that  of  your 
sen-ants,  show  your  rank  to  be  high  and  your 
wealth  to  be  great.  Why  should  you,  who  can  so 
easily  procure  your  ransom,  think  yourself  in 
danger  of  perpetual  captivity?  The  purpose  of 
my  incursions  is  to  increase  my  riches,  or,  more 
properly,  to  gather  tribute.  The  sons  of  Ishmael 
are  the  natural  and  hereditary  lords  of  this  part  of 
the  continent,  which  is  usurped  by  late  invaders 
and  low-born  tyrants  from  whom  we  are  com- 
pelled to  take  by  the  sword  what  is  denied  to 
justice.  The  violence  of  war  admits  no  distinc- 
tion ;  the  lance  that  is  lifted  at  guilt  and  power, 
will  sometimes  fall  on  innocence  and  gentleness.' 

"  <  How  little,'  said  I,  '  did  I  expect  that  yes- 
terday it  should  have  fallen  upon  me  ! ' 

"  '  Misfortunes,'  answered  the  Arab,  '  should 
always  be  expected.  If  the  eye  of  hostility  could 
learn  reverence  or  pity,  excellence  like  yours  had 
been  exempt  from  injury.  But  the  angels  of  afflic- 
tion spread  their  toils  alike  for  the  virtuous  and 
the  wicked,  for  the  mighty  and  the  mean.  Do 
not  be  disconsolate  :  I  am  not  one  of  the  lawless 
and  cruel  rovers  of  the  desert ;  I  know  the  rules 
of  civil  life ;  I  will  fix  your  ransom,  give  a  pass- 
port to  your  messenger,  and  perform  my  stipula- 
tion with  nice  punctuality.' 

"  You  will  easily  believe  that  I  was  pleased  with 
his  courtesy  ;  and  finding  that  his  predominant 
passion  was  desire  of  money,  1  began  now  to  think 


/ 


152  EASSELAS. 

my  danger  less,  for  I  knew  that  no  sum  would  be 
thought  too  great  for  the  release  of  Pekuah.  I 
told  him  that  he  should  have  no  reason  to  charge 
me  with  ingratitude  if  I  was  used  with  kindness, 
and  that  any  ransom  which  could  be  expected  for 
a  maid  of  common  rank  would  be  paid ;  but  that 
he  must  not  persist  to  rate  me  as  a  princess.  He 
said  he  would  consider  what  he  should  demand ; 
and  then  smiling,  bowed  and  retired. 

"  Soon  after  the  women  came  about  me,  each 
contending  to  be  more  officious  than  the  other, 
and  my  maids  themselves  were  served  with  rever- 
ence. We  travelled  onward  by  short  journeys. 
On  the  fourth  day  the  chief  told  me,  that  my 
ransom  must  be  two  hundred  ounces  of  gold ; 
which  I  not  only  promised  him,  but  told  him  that 
I  would  add  fifty  more,  if  I  and  my  maids  were 
honorably  treated. 

X  "I  never  knew  the  power  of  gold  before.  From 
that  time  I  was  the  leader  of  the  troop.  The 
march  of  every  day  was  longer  or  shorter  as  I 
commanded,  and  the  tents  were  pitched  where  I 
chose  to  rest.  We  now  had  camels  and  other 
conveniences  for  travel,  my  own  women  were 
always  at  my  side,  and  I  amused  myself  with  ob- 
serving the  manners  of  the  vagrant  nations,  and 
with  viewing  remains  of  ancient  edifices,  with 
which  these  deserted  countries  appear  to  have 
been,  in  some  distant  age,  lavishly  embellished. 

"The  chief  of  the  band  was  a  man  far  from 


THE  CHIEF. 


153 


illiterate  ;  he  was  able  to  travel  by  the  stars  or  the 
compais,  and  had  marked,  in  his  erratic  expedi- 
tions, such  places  as  are  most  worthy  the  notice  of 
a  passenger.  He  observed  to  me,  that  buildings 
are  always  best  preserved  in  places  little  fre- 
quented, and  difficult  of  access ;  for,  when  once 
a  country  declines  from  its  primitive  splendor,  the 
more  inhabitants  are  left  the  quicker  ruin  will  be 
made.  Walls  supply  stones  more  easily  than 
quarries,  and  palaces  and  temples  will  be  demol- 
ished, to  make  stables  of  granite  and  cottages 
of  porphyry  !  " 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 


THE   ADVENTURES    OF   PEKUAH    CONTINUED. 


E  wandered  about  in  this  manner  for 
some  weeks,  whether,  as  our  chief 
pretended,  for  my  gratification,  or, 
as  I  rather  suspected,  for  some  con- 
venience of  his  own.  I  endeavored  to  appear 
contented,  where  sullenness  and  resentment  would 
have  been  of  no  use,  and  that  endeavor  conduced 
much  to  the  calmness  of  my  mind ;  but  my  heart 
was  always  with  Nekayah,  and  the  troubles  of  the 
night  much  overbalanced  the  amusements  of  the 
day.  My  women,  who  threw  all  their  cares  upon 
their  mistress,  set  their  minds  at  ease  from  the 
time  when  they  saw  me  treated  with  respect,  and 
gave  themselves  up  to  the  incidental  alleviations 
of  our  fatigue  without  solicitude  or  sorrow.  I  was 
pleased  with  their  pleasure,  and  animated  with 
their  confidence,  i  My  condition  had  lost  much  of 
its  terror,  since  I  found  that  the  Arab  ranged  the 
country  merely  to  get  riches.  <  Avarice  is  a  uni- 


PEKUAH  CONTINUES.  155 

form  and  tractable  vice  ;  other  intellectual  dis- 
tempers are  different  in  different  constitutions  of 
mind  ;  that  which  soothes  the  pride  of  one  will 
offend  the  pride  of  another ;  but  to  the  favor  of 
the  covetous  there  is  a  ready  way ;  bring  money, 
and  nothing  is  denied. 

"  At  last  we  came  to  the  dwelling  of  our  chief, 
a  strong  and  spacious  house  built  with  stone,  in 
an  island  of  the  Nile,  which  lies  as  I  was  told 
under  the  tropic.  '  Lady,'  said  the  Arab,  '  you 
shall  rest  after  your  journey  a  few  weeks  in  this 
place,  where  you  are  to  consider  yourself  as  sov- 
ereign. My  occupation  is  war ;  I  have  therefore 
chosen  this  obscure  residence,  from  which  I  can 
issue  unexpected,  and  to  which  I  can  retire  un- 
pursued.  You  may  now  repose  in  security  :  here1 
are  few  pleasures,  but  here  is  no  danger.'  He 
then  led  me  into  the  inner  apartments,  and  seat- 
ing me  on  the  richest  couch,  bowed  to  the  ground. 
His  women,  who  considered  me  as  a  rival,  looked 
on  me  with  malignity  ;  but  being  soon  informed 
that  I  was  a  great  lady  detained  only  for  my 
ransom,  they  began  to  vie  with  each  other  in  ob- 
sequiousness and  reverence.  J 

"  Being  again  comforted  with  new  assurances  of 
speedy  liberty,  I  was  for  some  days  diverted  from 
impatience  by  the  novelty  of  the  place.  The 
turrets  overlooked  the  country  to  a  great  distance, 
and  afforded  a  view  of  many  windings  of  the 
stream.     In  the  day  I  wandered  from  one  place 


156  RASSELAS. 

to  another,  as  the  course  of  the  sun  varied  the 
splendor  of  the  prospect,  and  saw  many  things 
which  I  had  never  seen  before.  The  crocodiles 
and  river-horses  are  common  in  this  unpeopled 
region,  and  I  often  looked  upon  them  with  ter- 
ror, though  I  knew  that  they  could  not  hurt  me. 
For  some  time  I  expected  to  see  mermaids  and 
tritons,  which,  as  Imlac  has  told  me,  the  Euro- 
pean travellers  have  stationed  in  the  Nile ;  but 
no  such  beings  ever  appeared,  and  the  Arab, 
when  I  inquired  after  them,  laughed  at  my 
credulity. 

"At  night  the  Arab  always  attended  me  to  a 
tower  set  apart  for  celestial  observations,  where  he 
endeavored  to  teach  me  the  names  and  courses  of 
the  stars.  I  had  no  great  inclination  to  this  study, 
but  an  appearance  of  attention  was  necessary  to 
please  my  instructor,  who  valued  himself  for  his 
skill ;  and,  in  a  little  while,  I  found  some  employ- 
ment requisite  to  beguile  the  tediousness  of  time, 
which  was  to  be  passed  always  amidst  the  same 
objects.  I  was  weary  of  looking  in  the  morning 
on  things  from  which  I  had  turned  away  weary  in 
the  evening ;  I  therefore  was  at  last  willing  to  ob- 
serve the  stars  rather  than  do  nothing,  but  could 
not  always  compose  my  thoughts,  and  was  very 
often  thinking  on  Nekayah  when  others  imagined 
me  contemplating  the  sky.  Soon  after,  the  Arab 
went  upon  another  expedition,  and  then  my  only 
pleasure  was  to  talk  with  my  maids  about  the  ac- 


DIVERSIONS  OF   WOMEN.  157 

cident  by  which  we  were  carried  away,  and  the 
happiness  that  we  should  all  enjoy  at  the  end  of 
our  captivity." 

"  There  were  women  in  your  Arab's  fortress," 
said  the  princess ;  "  why  did  you  not  make  them 
companions,  enjoy  their  conversation,  and  par- 
take their  diversions?  In  a  place  where  they 
found  business  or  amusement,  why  should  you 
alone  sit  corroded  with  idle  melancholy ;  or  why 
could  not  you  bear,  for  a  few  months,  that  condi- 
tion to  which  they  were  condemned  for  life?  " 
AT  "The  diversions  of  the  women,"  answered  Pe- 
V  kuah,  "  were  only  childish  play,  by  which  the 
mind,  accustomed  to  stronger  operations,  could 
not  be  kept  busy.  I  could  do  all  which  they 
delighted  in  doing  by  powers  merely  sensitive, 
whilst  my  intellectual  faculties  were  flown  to  Cairo. 
They  ran  from  room  to  room,  as  a  bird  hops  from  -  $ f ' 
wire  to  wire  in  his  cage.  They  danced  for  the 
sake  of  motion,  as  lambs  frisk  in  a  meadow. 
One  sometimes  pretended  to  be  hurt,  that  the  rest 
might  be  alarmed  ;  or  hid  herself,  that  another 
might  seek  her.  Part  of  their  time  passed  in 
watching  the  progress  of  light  bodies  that  floated 
on  the  river,  and  part  in  marking  the  various  forms 
into  which  the  clouds  broke  in  the  sky. 

"  Their  business  was  only  needlework,  in  which 
I  and  my  maids  sometimes  helped  them  ;  but  you 
know  that  the  mind  will  easily  struggle  from  the 
fingers,  nor  will  you  suspect  that  captivity  and  ab- 


v 


158  RASSELAS. 

sence  from  Nekayah  could  receive   solace  from 
silken  flowers. 

"  Nor  was  much  satisfaction  to  be  hoped  from 
their  conversation  :  for  of  what  could  they  be  ex- 
pected to  talk?  They  had  seen  nothing  ;  for  they 
had  lived  from  early  youth  in  that  narrow  spot ; 
of  what  they  had  not  seen,  they  could  have  no 
knowledge,  for  they  could  not  read.  They  had  no 
ideas  but  of  the  few  things  that  were  within  their 
view,  and  had  hardly  names  for  anything  but  their 
clothes  and  their  food.  As  I  bore  a  superior  char- 
acter, I  was  often  called  to  terminate  their  quar- 
rels, which  I  decided  as  equitably  as  I  could.  If 
it  could  have  amused  me  to  hear  the  complaints 
of  each  against  the  rest,  I  might  have  been  often 
detained  by  long  stories ;  but  the  motives  of  their 
animosity  were  so  small,  that  I  could  not  listen 
without  interrupting  the  tale."  ) 

"  How,"  said  Rasselas,  ""can  the  Arab,  whom 
you  represented  as  a  man  of  more  than  common 
accomplishments,  take  any  pleasure  in  his  seraglio, 
when  it  is  filled  only  with  women  like  these  ?  Are 
they  exquisitely  beautiful?  " 

"They  do  not,"  said  Pekuah,  "want  that  un- 
affecting  and  ignoble  beauty  which  may  subsist 
without  sprightliness  or  sublimity,  without  energy 
of  thought,  or  dignity  of  virtue.  But  to  a  man 
like  the  Arab,  such  beauty  was  only  a  flower  casu- 
ally plucked  and  carelessly  thrown  away.  What- 
ever pleasures  he  might  find  among  them,  they 


CAPTIVITY.  I59 

were  not  those  of  friendship  or  society.  When 
they  were  playing  about  him,  he  looked  at  them 
with  inattentive  superiority;  when  they  vied  for 
his  regard,  he  sometimes  turned  away  disgusted. 
As  they  had  no  knowledge,  their  talk  could  take 
nothing  from  the  tediousness  of  life  ;  as  they  had 
no  choice,  their  fondness,  or  appearance  of  fond- 
ness, excited  in  him  neither  pride  nor  gratitude ; 
he  was  not  exalted  in  his  own  esteem  by  the 
smiles  of  a  woman  who  saw  no  other  man,  nor 
was  much  obliged  by  that  regard  of  which  he  •  #  s 
could  never  know  the  sincerity,  and  which  he^ff'' 
might. often  perceive  to  be  exerted,  not  so  much  ififif 
to  delight  him  as  to  pain  a  rival.  That  which  he 
gave,  and  they  received,  as  love,  was  only  a  care- 
less distribution  of  superfluous  time,  such  love  as 
man  can  bestow  upon  that  which  he  despises,  such 
as  has  neither  hope  nor  fear,  neither  joy  nor 
sorrow." 

"Ye  have  reason,  lady,  to  think  yourself  happy," 
said  Imlac,  "  that  you  have  been  thus  easily  dis- 
missed. How  could  a  mind,  hungry  for  knowl- 
edge, be  willing,  in  an  intellectual  famine,  to  lose 
such  a  banquet  as  Pekuah's  conversation?" 

"  I  am  inclined  to  believe,"  answered  Pekuah, 
"  that  he  was  for  some  time  in  suspense  :  for,  not- 
withstanding his  promise,  whenever  I  proposed  to 
despatch  a  messenger  to  Cairo,  he  found  some  ex- 
cuse for  delay.  While  I  was  detained  in  his  house, 
he  made  many  incursions  into    the    neighboring 


160  RASSELAS. 

countries,  and  perhaps  he  would  have  refused  to 
discharge  me,  had  his  plunder  been  equal  to  his 
wishes.  He  returned  always  courteous,  related 
his  adventures,  delighted  to  hear  my  observations, 
and  endeavored  to  advance  my  acquaintance  with 
the  stars.  When  I  importuned  him  to  send  away 
my  letters,  he  soothed  me  with  professions  of 
honor  and  sincerity;  and  when  I  could  be  no 
longer  decently  denied,  put  his  troop  again  in  mo- 
tion, and  left  me  to  govern  in  his  absence.  I  was 
much  afflicted  by  this  studied  procrastination,  and 
was  sometimes  afraid  that  I  should  be  forgotten ; 
that  you  would  leave  Cairo,  and  I  must  end  my 
days  in  an  island  of  the  Nile. 

"  I  grew  at  last  hopeless  and  dejected,  and 
cared  so  little  to  entertain  him,  that  he  for  a  while 
more  frequently  talked  with  my  maids.  That  he 
should  fall  in  love  with  them  or  with  me,  might 
have  been  equally  fatal,  and  I  was  not  much 
pleased  with  the  growing  friendship.  My  anxiety 
was  not  long ;  for  as  I  recovered  some  degree  of 
cheerfulness,  he  returned  to  me,  and  I  could  not 
forbear  to  despise  my  former  uneasiness. 

"  He  still  delayed  to  send  for  my  ransom,  and 
would,  perhaps,  never  have  determined,  had  not 
your  agent  found  his  way  to  him.  The  gold, 
which  he  would  not  fetch,  he  could  not  reject 
when  it  was  offered.  He  hastened  to  prepare 
for  our  journey  hither,  like  a  man  delivered 
from  an  intestine  conflict.     I  took  leave  of  my 


RE  WARDS.  1 6 1 

companions    in    the    house,    who    dismissed    me 
with  cold  indifference." 

Nekayah,  having  heard  her  favorite's  relation, 
rose  and  embraced  her,  and  Rasselas  gave  her 
a  hundred  ounces  of  gold,  which  she  presented 
to  the  Arab  for  the  fifty  that  were  promised. 


ii 


CHAPTER  XL. 


THE   HISTORY    OF   A   MAN   OF   LEARNING. 


HEY  returned  to  Cairo,  and  were  so 
well  pleased  at  finding  themselves  to- 
gether, that  none  of  them  went  much 
abroad.  The  prince  began  to  love 
learning,  and  one  day  declared  to  Imlac  that  he 
intended  to  devote  himself  to  science,  and  pass 
the  rest  of  his  days  in  literary  solitude. 

"  Before  you  make  your  final  choice,"  answered 
Imlac,  "  you  ought  to  examine  its  hazards,  and 
converse  with  those  who  are  grown  old  in  the 
company  of  themselves.  I  have  just  left  the  ob- 
servatory of  one  of  the  most  learned  astronomers 
in  the  world,  who  has  spent  forty  years  in  un- 
wearied attention  to  the  motions  and  appearances 
of  the  celestial  bodies,  and  has  drawn  out  his  soul 
in  endless  calculations.  He  admits  a  few  friends 
once  a  month  to  hear  his  deductions  and  enjoy 
his  discoveries.  I  was  introduced  as  a  man  of 
knowledge,  worthy  of  his  notice.     Men  of  various 


A  MAN  OF  LEARNING.  1 63 

ideas  and  fluent  conversation  are  commonly  wel- 
come to  those  whose  thoughts  have  been  long 
fixed  upon  a  single  point,  and  who  find  the  images 
of  other  things  stealing  away.  I  delighted  him 
with_my  remarks ;  he  smiled  at  the  narrative  of 
my  travels  ;  and  was  glad  to  forget  the  constel- 
lations, and  descend  for  a  moment  into  the  lower 
world. 

"  On  the  next  day  of  vacation  I  renewed  my 
visit,  and  was  so  fortunate  as  to  please  him  again. 
He  relaxed  from  that  time  the  severity  of  this 
rule,  and  permitted  me  to  enter  at  my  own  choice. 
I  found  him  always  busy,  and  always  glad  to  be 
relieved.  As  each  knew  much  which  the  other 
was  desirous  of  learning,  we  exchanged  our  no- 
tions with  great  delight.  I  perceived  that  I  had 
every  day  more  of  his  confidence,  and  always 
found  new  cause  of  admiration  in  the  profundity 
of  his  mind.  His  comprehension  is  vast,  his 
memory  capacious  and  retentive,  his  discourse  is 
methodical,  and  his  expression  clear. 

"  His  integrity  and  benevolence  are  equal  to 
his  learning.  His  deepest  researches  and  most 
favorite  studies  are  willingly  interrupted  for  any 
opportunity  of  doing  good  by  his  counsel  or  his 
riches.  To  his  closest  retreat,  at  his  most  busy 
moments,  all  are  admitted  that  want  his  assist- 
ance :  '  For  though  I  exclude  idleness  and  pleas- 
ure, I  will  never,'  says  he,  *  bar  my  doors  against 
charity.     To  man  is  permitted  the  contemplation 


1 64  HASSELAS. 

of  the  skies,  but  the  practice  of  virtue  is  com- 
manded.' " 

"  Surely,"  said  the  princess,  "  this  man  is 
happy." 

"  I  visited  him,"  said  Imlac,  "  with  more  and 
more  frequency,  and  was  every  time  more  enam- 
oured of  his  conversation  :  he  was  sublime  with- 
out haughtiness,  courteous  without  formality,  and 
communicative  without  ostentation. 

"  I  was  at  first,  great  princess,  of  your  opinion, 
thought  him  the  happiest  of  mankind,  and  often 
congratulated  him  on  the  blessing  that  he  enjoyed. 
He  seemed  to  hear  nothing  with  indifference  but 
the  praises  of  his  condition,  to  which  he  always 
returned  a  general  answer,  and  diverted  the  con- 
versation to  some  other  topic. 

"Amidst  this  willingness  to  be  pleased  and 
labor  to  please,  I  had  quickly  reason  to  imagine 
that  some  painful  sentiment  pressed  upon  his 
mind.  He  often  looked  up  earnestly  towards  the 
sun,  and  let  bis  voice  fall  in  the  midst  of  his  dis- 
course. He  would  sometimes,  when  we  were 
alone,  gaze  upon  me  in  silence  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  longed  to  speak  what  he  was  yet  re- 
solved to  suppress.  He  would  often  send  for  me 
with  vehement  injunctions  of  haste,  though,  when 
I  came  to  him,  he  had  nothing  extraordinary  to 
say.  And  sometimes,  when  I  was  leaving  him, 
would  call  me  back,  pause  a  few  moments,  and 
then  dismiss  me." 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

THE    ASTRONOMER    DISCOVERS   THE    CAUSE    OF    HIS 
UNEASINESS. 


T  last  the  time  came  when  the  secret 
burst  his  reserve.  We  were  sitting 
together  last  night  in  the  turret  of  his 
house,  watching  the  emersion  of  a 
satellite  of  Jupiter.  A  sudden  tempest  clouded 
the  sky,  and  disappointed  our  observation.  We 
sat  awhile  silent  in  the  dark,  and  then  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  me  in  these  words  :  '  Imlac,  1 
have  long_xonsidcred  thy  friendship  as  the  great- 
est blessing  of  my  life.  Integrity  vvithout  knowl- 
edg£jsjv€ak~and--us£less,  and  knowledge  without 
integrity  is  dangerous  and  dreadful.  I  have  found 
in  thee  all  the  qualities  requisite  for  trust,  —  be- 
olence,  experience,  arid  fortitude.  I  have  long 
discharged  an  office  which  I  must  soon  quit  at 
the  call  of  Nature,  and  shall  rejoice  in  the  hour  of 
imbecility  and  pain  to  devolve  it  upon  thee.' 


1 66  RASSELAS. 

"  I  thought  myself  honored  by  this  testimony, 
and  protested  that  whatever  could  conduce  to  his 
happiness  would  add  likewise  to  mine. 

" '  Hear,  Imlac,  what  thou  wilt  not  without 
difficulty  credit.  I  have  possessed  for  five  years 
the  regulation  of  the  weather  and  the  distribution 
of  the  seasons ;  the  sun  has  listened  to  my  dic- 
tates, and  passed  from  tropic  to  tropic  by  my 
direction ;  the  clouds,  at  my  call,  have  poured 
their  waters,  and  the  Nile  has  overflowed  at  my 
command  ;  I  have  restrained  the  rage  of  the  dog- 
star,  and  mitigated  the  fervors  of  the  crab.  The 
winds  alone,  of  all  the  elemental  powers,  have 
hitherto  refused  my  authority,  and  multitudes 
have  perished  by  equinoctial  tempests,  which  I 

;)und  myself  unable  to  prohibit  or  restrain.  I 
ave  administered  this  great  office  with  exact 
'  justice,  and  made  to  the  different  nations  of  the 
earth  an  impartial  dividend  of  rain  and  sunshine. 
What  must  have  been  the  misery  of  half  the 
globe,  if  I  had  limited  the  clouds  to  particular 
regions,  or  confined  the  sun  to  either  side  of  the 
equator?  '  " 


CHAPTER   XLII. 


THE    OPINION    OF     THE     ASTRONOMER    IS     EXPLAINED 
AND    JUSTIFIED. 

SUPPOSE  he  discovered  in  me,  through 
the  obscurity  of  the  room,  some  tokens 
of  amazement  and  doubt,  for,  after  a 
short  pause,  he  proceeded  thus  :  — 
"  '  Not  to  be  easily  credited  will  neither  sur- 
prise nor  offend  me ;  for  I  am,  probably,  the  first 
of  human  beings  to  whom  this  trust  has  been  im- 
parted. Nor  do  I  know  whether  to  deem  this 
distinction  a  reward  or  punishment ;  since  I  have 
possessed  it  I  have  been  far  less  happy  than  be- 
fore, and  nothing  but  the  consciousness  of  good 
intention  could  have  enabled  me  to  support  the 
weariness  of  unremitted  vigilance.' 

" '  How  long,  Sir,'  said  I,  '  has  this  great-office 
been  in  your  hands  ?  ' 

"  '  About  ten  years  ago,'  said  he, '  my  daily  ob- 
servations of  the  changes  of  the  sky  led  me  to 


1 68  RASSELAS. 

consider,  whether,  if  I  had  the  power  of  the 
seasons,  I  could  confer  greater  plenty  upon  the 
inhabitants  of  the  earth.  This  contemplation 
fastened  on  my  mind,  and  I  sat  days  and  nights 
in  imaginary  dominion,  pouring  upon  this  country 
and  that  the  showers  of  fertility,  and  seconding 
every  fall  of  rain  with  a  due  proportion  of  sun- 
shine. I  had  yet  only  the  will  to  do  good,  and 
did  not  imagine  that  I  should  ever  have  the 
power. 

" '  One  day,  as  I  was  looking  on  the  fields 
withering  with  heat,  I  felt  in  my  mind  a  sudden 
wish  that  I  could  send  rain  on  the  southern  moun- 
tains, and  raise  the  Nile  to  an  inundation.  In 
the  hurry  of  my  imagination  I  commanded  rain 
to  fall,  and  by  comparing  the  time  of  my  com- 
mand with  that  of  the  inundation,  I  found  that 
the   clouds   had  listened   to   my  lips.' 

"  '  Might  not  some  other  cause,'  said  I,  '  pro- 
duce this  concurrence  ?  The  Nile  does  not  always 
rise  on  the  same  day.' 

"  '  Do  not  believe,'  said  he  with  impatience, 
'  that  such  objections  could  escape  me  :  I  rea- 
soned long  against  my  own  conviction  and  labored 
against  truth  with  the  utmost  obstinacy.  I  some- 
times suspected  myself  of  madness,  and  should 
not  have  dared  to  impart  this  secret  but  to  a  man 
like  you,  capable  of  distinguishing  the  wonderful 
from  the  impossible,  and  the  incredible  from  the 
false.' 


THE   GOVERNOR   OF    THE  SUN.  169 

«  <  Why,  Sir,'  said  I,  '  do  you  call  that  incredi- 
ble which  you  know,  or  think  you  know,  to  be 
true  ?  ' 

" '  Because,'  said  he,  '  I  cannot  prove  it  by  any 
external  evidence ;  and  I  know  too  well  the  laws 
of  demonstration  to  think  that  my  conviction 
ought  to  influence  another,  who  cannot,  like  me, 
be  conscious  of  its  force.  I  therefore  shall  not 
attempt  to  gain  credit  by  disputation.  It  is  suffi- 
cient that  I  feel  this  power,  that  I  have  long  pos- 
sessed, and  every  day  exerted  it.  But  the  life  of 
man  is  short,  the  infirmities  of  age  increase  upon 
me,  and  the  time  will  soon  come,  when  the  regu- 
lator of  the  year  must  mingle  with  the  dust.  The 
care  of  appointing  a  successor  has  long  disturbed 
me ;  the  night  and  the  day  have  been  long  spent 
in  comparisons  of  all  the  characters  which  have 
come  to  my  knowledge,  and  I  have  yet  found 
none  so  worthy  as  thyself.'  " 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

THE   ASTRONOMER   LEAVES   IMLAC   HIS   DIRECTIONS. 


i|EAR,  therefore,  what  I  shall  impart,  with 
attention  such  as  the  welfare  of  a 
world  requires.  If  the  task  of  a  king 
be  considered  as  difficult,  who  has 
the  care  only  of  a  few  millions,  to  whom  he  can- 
not do  much  good  or  harm,  what  must  be  the 
anxiety  of  him  on  whom  depends  the  action  of 
the  elements,  and  the  great  gifts  of  light  and  heat  ! 
—  Hear  me  therefore  with  attention. 

" '  I  have  diligently  considered  the  position 
of  the  earth  and  sun,  and  formed  innumerable 
schemes  in  which  I  changed  their  situation.  I 
have  sometimes  turned  aside  the  axis  of  the  earth, 
and  sometimes  varied  the  ecliptic  of  the  sun  :  but 
I  have  found  it  impossible  to  make  a  disposition 
by  which  the  world  may  be  advantaged ;  what 
one  region  gains  another  loses  by  any  imaginable 
alteration,  even  without  considering  the  distant 
parts  of  the  solar  system  with  which  we  are  unac- 
quainted.    Do  not,  therefore,  in  thy  administra- 


THE  ASTRONOMER.  171 

tion  of  the  year,  indulge  thy  pride  by  innovation  j 
do  not  please  thyself  with  thinking  that  thou  canst 
make  thyself  renowned  to  all  future  ages,  by  dis- 
ordering the  seasons.  The  memory  of  mischief 
is  no  desirable  fame.  Much  less  will  it  become 
thee  to  let  kindness  or  interest  prevail.  Never 
rob  other  countries  of  rain,  to  pour  it  on  thine 
own.     For  us  the  Nile  is  sufficient.' 

"  I  promised  that,  when  I  possessed  the  power, 
I  would  use  it  with  inflexible  integrity ;  and  he 
dismissed  me,  pressing  my  hand.  '  My  heart,' 
said  he,  '  will  be  now  at  rest,  and  my  benevolence 
will  no  more  destroy  my  quiet ;  I  have  found  a 
man  of  wisdom  and  virtue,  to  whom  I  can  cheer- 
fully bequeath  the  inheritance  of  the  sun.'  " 

The  prince  heard  this  narration  with  very  serious 
regard  ;  but  the  princess  smiled,  and  Pekuah  con- 
vulsed herself  with  laughter.  "  Ladies,"  said 
Imlac,  "  to  mock  the  heaviest  of  human  afflictions 
is  neither  charitable  nor  wise.  Few  can  attain 
this  man's  knowledge,  and  few  practise  his  vir- 
tues ;  but  all  may  suffer  his  calamity.  Of  the 
uncertainties  of  our  present  state,  the  most  dread- 
ful and  alarming  is  the  uncertain  continuance  of  ^p  >.' 
reason." 

The  princess  was  recollected,  and  the  favorite 
was  abashed.  Rasselas,  more  deeply  affected, 
inquired  of  Imlac  whether  he  thought  such  mala- 
dies of  the  mind  frequent,  and  how  they  were 
contracted  ? 


■*uK»B©fcJ 


CHAPTER   XLIV. 

\  THE   DANGEROUS   PREVALENCE   OF    IMAGINATION.    ; 

JISORDERS  of  intellect,"  answered  Im- 
lac,  "  happen  much  more  often  than 
superficial  observers  will  easily  believe. 
Perhaps,  if  we  speak  with  rigorous 
exactness,  no  human  mind  is  in  its  right  state. 
There  is  no  man  whose  imagination  does  not 
sometimes  predominate  over  his  reason,  who  can 
regulate  his  attention  wholly-  by  his  will,  and 
whose  ideas  will  come  and  go  at  his  command. 
No  man  will  be  found  in  whose  mind  airy  no- 
tions do  not  sometimes  tyrannize,  and  force  him 
to  hope  or  fear  beyond  the  limits  of  sober  prob- 
ability. All  power  of  fancy  over  reason  is  a 
degree  of  insanity ;  but  while  this  power  is  such 
as  we  can  control  and  repress,  it  is  not  visible  to 
others,  nor  considered  as  any  depravation  of  the 
mental  faculties  :  it  is  not  pronounced  madness 
but  when  it  becomes  ungovernable,  and  appar- 
ently influences  speech  or  action. 


POWER  OF  IMAGINATION.  I  73 

"  To  indulge  the  power  of  fiction,  and  send 
imagination  out  upon  the  wing,  is  often  the  sport 
of  those  who  delight  too  much  in  silent  specula- 
tion. When  we  are  alone  we  are  not  always 
hii^y;  the  labor  of  excogitation  is  too  violent  to 
last  Long ;  the  ardor  of  inquiry  will  sometimes 
give  way  to  idleness  or  satiety.  He  who  has 
nothing  external  that  can  divert  him  must  find 
pleasure  in  his  own  thoughts,  and  must  conceive 
himself  what  he  is  not ;  for  who  is  pleased  with 
what  he  is?  He  then  expatiates  in  boundless 
futurity,  and  culls  from  all  imaginable  conditions 
that  which  for  the  present  moment  he  should 
most  desire,  amuses  his  desires  with  impossible 
enjoyments,  and  confers  upon  his  pride  unattain- 
able dominion.  ^he_mind  dances  from  scene  to 
scene,  unites  all  pleasures  in  all  combinations, 
and  riots  in  delights  which  Nature  and  fortune, 
with  all  their  bounty,  cannot  bestow. 

"  In_tinie,-^ome_particular  train  of  ideas  fixes 
the  attention  j  all  other  intellectual  gratifications 
are  rejected;  the  mind,  in  weariness  or  leisure, 
recurs  constantly  to  the  favorite  conception,  and 
feasts  on  the  luscious  falsehood  whenever  she  is 
offended  with  the  bitterness  of  truth.  By  degrees 
the  reign  of  fancy  is  confirmed  j  she  grows  first 
imperious,  and  in  time  despotic.  Then  fictions 
begin  to  operate  as  realities,  false  opinions  fasten 
upon  the  mind,  and  life  passes  in  dreams  of 
rapture   or  of  anguish. 


1 74  RASSELAS. 

"This,  Sirxjs__one  of  the  dangers  of  solitude, 
which  the  hermit  has  confessed  not  always  to 
promote  goodness,  and  the  astronomer's  misery 
has  proved  to  be  not  always  propitious  to 
wisdom." 

"  I  will  no  more,"  said  the  favorite,  "  imagine 
myself  the  Queen  of  Abyssinia.  I  have  often 
spent  the  hours  which  the  princess  gave  to  my 
own  disposal,  in  adjusting  ceremonies  and  regu- 
lating the  court ;  I  have  repressed  the  pride  of 
the  powerful,  and  granted  the  petitions  of  the 
poor ;  I  have  built  new  palaces  in  more  happy 
situations,  planted  groves  upon  the  tops  of  the 
mountains,  and  have  exulted  in  the  beneficence 
of  royalty ;  till,  when  the  princess  entered,  I  had 
almost  forgotten  to  bow  down  before  her." 

"And  I,"  said  the  princess,  "will  not  allow 
myself  any  more  to  play  the  shepherdess  in 
my  waking  dreams.  I  have  often  soothed  my 
thoughts  with  the  quiet  and  innocence  of  pastoral 
employments,  till  I  have,  in  my  chamber,  heard 
the  winds  whistle,  and  the  sheep  bleat ;  some- 
times freed  the  lamb  entangled  in  the  thicket, 
and  sometimes  with  my  crook  encountered  the 
wolf.  I  have  a  dress  like  that  of  the  village 
maids,  which  I  put  on  to  help  my  imagination ; 
and  a  pipe  on  which  I  play  softly,  and  suppose 
myself  followed  by  my  flocks." 

"  I  will  confess,"  said  the  prince,  "  an  indul- 
gence of  fantastic  delight  more  dangerous  than 


VISIONARY  SCHEMES.  I  75 

yours.  I  have  frequently  endeavored  to  imagine 
the  possibility  of  a  perfect  government,  by  which 
all  wrong  should  be  restrained,  all  vice  reformed, 
and  all  the  subjects  preserved  in  tranquillity  and 
innocence.  This  thought  produced  innumerable 
schemes  of  reformation,  and  dictated  many  use- 
ful regulations  and  salutary  edicts.  This  has  been 
the  sport,  and  sometimes  the  labor,  of  my  soli- 
tude ;  and  I  start  when  I  think  with  how  little 
anguish  I  once  supposed  the  death  of  my  father 
and  my  brothers." 

"Such,"  says  Imlac,  "are  the  effects  of  vision-N 
ary  schemes ;  when  we  first  form  them  we  know 
them    to    be    absurd,    but    familiarize    them    by 
degrees  and  in  time  lose  sight  of  their  folly." 


CHAPTER   XLV. 


THEY    DISCOURSE   WITH   AN   OLD   MAN. 


HE  evening  was  now  far  past,  and  they 
rose  to  return  home.  As  they  walked 
along  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  delighted 
with  the  beams  of  the  moon  quiver- 
ing on  the  water,  they  saw  at  a  small  distance  an 
old  man,  whom  the  prince  had  often  heard  in 
the  assembly  of  the  sages.  "Yonder,"  said  he, 
"is  one  whose  years  have  calmed  his  passions, 
but  not  clouded  his  reason ;  let  us  close  the  dis- 
quisitions of  the  night  by  inquiring  what  are  his 
sentiments  of  his  own  state,  that  we  may  know 
whether  youth  alone  is  to  struggle  with  vexation, 
and  whether  any  better  hope  remains  for  the 
latter  part  of  life." 

Here  the  sage  approached  and  saluted  them. 
They  invited  him  to  join  their  walk,  and  prattled 
awhile,  as  acquaintance  that  had  unexpectedly 
met  one  another.  The  old  man  was  cheerful  and 
talkative,  and  the  way  seemed  short  in  his  com- 


PLEASURE  AND  EASE.  I  77 

pany.  He  was  pleased  to  find  himself  not  disre- 
garded, accompanied  them  to  their  house,  and, 
at  the  prince's  request,  entered  with  them.  They 
placed  him  in  the  seat  of  honor,  and  set  wine 
and  conserves  before  him. 

"Sir,"  said  the  princess,  "an  evening  walk 
must  give  to  a  man  of  learning,  like  you,  pleasures 
which  ignorance  and  youth  can  hardly  conceive. 
You  know  the  qualities  and  causes  of  all  that 
you  behold,  the  laws  by  which  the  river  flows,  the 
periods  in  which  the  planets  perform  their  revo- 
lutions. Everything  must  supply  you  with  con- 
templation, and  renew  the  consciousness  of  your 
own  dignity." 

"  Lady,"  answered  he,  "  let  the  gay  and  the 
vigorous  expect  pleasure  in  their  excursions ;  it  is 
enough  that  age  can  obtain  ease.  To  me  the 
world  has  lost  its  novelty;  I  look  round,  and  see 
what  I  remember  to  have  seen  in  happier  days. 
I  rest  against  a  tree,  and  consider,  that  in  the 
same  shade  I  once  disputed  upon  the  annual 
overflow  of  the  Nile,  with  a  friend  who  is  now 
silent  in  the  grave.  I  cast  my  eyes  upwards,  fix 
them  on  the  changing  moon,  and  think  with  pain 
on  the  vicissitudes  of  life.  I  have  ceased  to  take 
much  delight  in  physical  truth  ;  for  what  have  I 
to  do  with  those  things  which  I  am  soon  to 
leave?" 

"You  may  at  least  recreate  yourself."  said  [m- 

lac,  "  with  recollection  of  an  honorable  and  useful 

12 


1 78  RASSELAS. 

life,  and  enjoy  the  praise  which  all  agree  to  give 
you." 

"  Praise/.'  said  the  sage,  with  a  sigh,  "  is_to  an 
old  man  an  empty  sound.  I  have  neither  mother 
to  be  delighted  with  the  reputation  of  her  son,  nor 
wife  to  partake  the  honors  of  her  husband.  I 
have  outlived  my  friends  and  my  rivals.  Nothing 
is  now  of  much  importance ;  for  I  cannot  extend 
my  interest  beyond  myself.  Youth  is  delighted 
with  applause,  because  it  is  considered  as  the  ear- 
nest of  some  future  good,  and  because  the  pros- 
pect of  life  is  far  extended ;  but  to  me,  who  am 
now  declining  to  decrepitude,  there  is  little  to 
be  feared  from  the  malevolence  of  men,  and  yet 
less  to  be  hoped  from  their  affection  or  esteem. 
Something  they  may  yet  take  away,  but  they  can 
give  me  nothing.  Riches  would  now  be  useless, 
and  high  employment  would  be  pain.  My  retro- 
spect of  life  recalls  to  my  view  many  opportuni- 
ties of  good  neglected,  much  time  squandered 
upon  trifles,  and  more  lost  in  idleness  and  va- 
cancy. I  leave  many  great  designs  unattempted, 
and  many  great  attempts  unfinished.  My  mind 
is  burdened  with  no  heavy  crime,  and  therefore  I 
compose  myself  to  tranquillity ;  endeavor  to  ab- 
stract my  thoughts  from  hopes  and  cares  which, 
though  reason  knows  them  to  be  vain,  still  try  to 
keep  their  old  possession  of  the  heart ;  expect 
with  serene  humility  that  hour  which  Nature  can- 
not long  delay ;  and  hope  to  possess,  in  a  better 


YOUTH  AND  AGE.  I  79 

state,  that  happiness  which  here  I  could  not  find, 
and  that  virtue  which  here  I  have  not  attained." 

He  rose  and  went  away,  leaving  his  audience 
not  much  elated  with  the  hope  of  long  life.  The 
prince  consoled  himself  with  remarking  that  it 
was  not  reasonable  to  be  disappointed  by  this  ac- 
count, for  age  had  never  been  considered  as  the 
season  of  felicity ;  and  if  it  was  possible  to  be 
easy  in  decline  and  weakness,  it  was  likely  that 
the  days  of  vigor  and  alacrity  might  be  happy,  — 
that  the  noon  of  life  might  be  bright,  if  the  even- 
ing could  be  calm. 

The  princess  suspected  that  age  was  querulous 
and  malignant,  and  delighted  to  repress  the  ex- 
pectations of  those  who  had  newly  entered  the 
world.  She  had  seen  the  possessors  of  estates 
look  with  envy  on  their  heirs,  and  known  many 
who  enjoyed  pleasure  no  longer  than  they  could 
confine  it  to  themselves. 

Pekuah  conjectured  that  the  man  was  older 
than  he  appeared,  and  was  willing  to  impute  his 
complaints  to  delirious  dejection  ;  or  else  supposed 
that  he  had  been  unfortunate,  and  was  therefore 
discontented  :  "  For  nothing,"  said  she,  "  is  more 
common,  than  to  call  our  own  condition  the  con- 
dition of  life." 

Imlac,  who  had  no  desire  to  see  them  de- 
pressed, smiled  at  the  comforts  which  they  could 
so  readily  procure  to  themselves,  and  remembered 
that  at  the  same  age  he  was  equally  confident  of 


180  RASSELAS. 

unmingled  prosperity,  and  equally  fertile  of  con- 
solatory expedients.  He  forbore  to  force  upon 
them  unwelcome  knowledge,  which  time  itself 
would  too  soon  impress.  The  princess  and  her 
lady  retired  ;  the  madness  of  the  astronomer  hung 
upon  their  minds,  and  they  desired  Imlac  to  enter 
upon  his  office,  and  delay  next  morning  the  rising 
of  the  sun. 


f 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 


THE  PRINCESS  AND   PEKUAH  VISIT  THE  ASTRONOMER. 


^HE  princess  and  Pekuah,  having  talked 
in    private    of    Imlac's    astronomer, 


thought  his  character  at  once  so  ami- 
able and  so  strange  that  they  could 
not  be  satisfied  without  a  nearer  knowledge,  and 
Imlac  was  requested  to  find  the  means  of  bring- 
ing them  together. 

This  was  somewhat  difficult ;  the  philosopher 
had  never  received  any  visits  from  women,  though 
he  lived  in  a  city  that  had  in  it  many  Europeans, 
who  followed  the  manners  of  their  own  countries, 
and  many  from  other  parts  of  the  world,  that 
lived  there  with  European  liberty.  The  ladies 
would  not  be  refused,  and  several  schemes  were 
proposed  for  the  accomplishment  of  their  design. 
It  was  proposed  to  introduce  them  as  strangers  in 
distress,  to  whom  the  sage  was  always  accessible  : 
but,  after  some  deliberation,  it  appeared  that,  by 


1 82  RASSELAS. 

this  artifice,  no  acquaintance  could  be  formed,  for 
their  conversation  would  be  short,  and  they  could 
not  decently  importune  him  often.  "  This,"  said 
Rasselas,  "  is  true  ;  but  I  have  yet  a  stronger  ob- 
jection against  the  misrepresentation  of  your  state. 
I  have  always  considered  it  as  treason  against  the 
great  republic  of  human  nature  to  make  any  man's 
virtues  the  means  of  deceiving  him,  whether  on 
great  or  little  occasions.  All  imposture  weakens 
confidence,  and  chills  benevolence.  When  the 
sage  finds  that  you  are  not  what  you  seemed,  he 
will  feel  the  resentment  natural  to  a  man  who, 
conscious  of  great  abilities,  discovers  that  he  has 
been  tricked  by  understandings  meaner  than  his 
own ;  and  perhaps  the  distrust  which  he  can 
never  afterwards  wholly  lay  aside,  may  stop  the 
voice  of  counsel,  and  close  the  hand  of  charity ; 
and  where  will  you  find  the  power  of  restoring 
his  benefactions  to  mankind,  or  his  peace  to 
himself  ?  " 

To  this  no  reply  was  attempted,  and  Imlac 
began  to  hope  that  their  curiosity  would  subside. 
But,  next  dayX^ekuah  told  him,  she  had  now 
found  an  honest  pretence  for  a  visit  to  the  as- 
tronomer ;  for  she  would  solicit  permission  to  con- 
tinue under  him  the  studies  in  which  she  had 
been  initiated  by  the  Arab,  and  the  princess 
might  go  with  her,  either  as  a  fellow-student,  or 
because  a  woman  could  not  decently  come  alone. 
"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Imlac,  "  that  he  will  be  soon 


THE  ASTRONOMER.  183 

weary  of  your  company.  Men  advanced  far  in 
knowledge  do  not  love  to  repeat  the  elements 
of  their  art ;  and  I  am  not  certain  that  even  of 
the  elements,  as  he  will  deliver  them  connected 
with  inferences  and  mingled  with  reflections,  you 
are  a  very  capable  auditress." 

"That,"  said  Pekuah,  "must  be  my  care;  I 
ask  of  you  only  to  take  me  thither.  My  knowl- 
edge is,  perhaps,  more  than  you  imagine  it,  and, 
by  concurring  always  with  his  opinions,  I  shall 
make  him  think  it  greater  than  it  is." 

The  astronomer,  in  pursuance  of  this  resolu- 
tion, was  told  that  a  foreign  lady,  travelling  in 
search  of  knowledge,  had  heard  of  his  reputation, 
and  was  desirous  to  become  his  scholar.  The 
uncommonness  of  the  proposal  raised  at  once 
his  surprise  and  curiosity ;  and  when,  after  a 
short  deliberation,  he  consented  to  admit  her, 
he  could  not  stay  without  impatience  till  the  next 
day. 

The  ladies  dressed  themselves  magnificently, 
and  were  attended  by  Imlac  to  the  astronomer, 
who  was  pleased  to  see  himself  approached  with 
respect  by  persons  of  so  splendid  an  appearance. 
In  the  exchange  of  the  first  civilities  he  was  tim- 
orous and  bashful ;  but  when  the  talk  became 
regular,  he  recollected  his  powers,  and  justified 
the  character  which  Imlac  had  given.  Inquiring 
of  Pekuah  what  could  have  turned  her  inclination 
towards  astronomy,  he  received  from  her  a  his- 


1 84  RASSELAS. 

tory  of  her  adventure  at  the  pyramid,  and  of  the 
time  passed  at  the  Arab's  island.  She  told  her 
tale  with  ease  and  elegance,  and  her  conversation 
took  possession  of  his  heart.  The  discourse  was 
then  turned  to  astronomy.  Pekuah  displayed 
what  she  knew ;  he  looked  upon  her  as  a  prodigy 
of  genius,  and  entreated  her  not  to  desist  from  a 
study  which  she  had  so  happily  begun. 

They  came  again  and  again,  and  were  every 
time  more  welcome  than  before.  The  sage  en- 
deavored to  amuse  them  that  they  might  pro- 
long their  visits,  for  he  found  his  thoughts  grow 
brighter  in  their  company ;  the  clouds  of  solici- 
tude vanished  by  degrees,  as  he  forced  himself 
to  entertain  them,  and  he  grieved  when  he  was 
left  at  their  departure  to  his  old  employment  of 
regulating  the  seasons. 

The  princess  and  her  favorite  had  now  watched 
his  lips  for  seyeral  months,  and  could  not  catch 
a  word  from  which  they  could  judge  whether  he 
continued,  or  not,  in  the  opinion  of  his  preter- 
natural commission.  They  often  contrived  to 
bring  him  to  an  open  declaration ;  but  he  easily 
eluded  all  their  attacks,  and  on  which  side  soever 
they  pressed  him,  escaped  from  them  to  some 
.other  topic. 

As  their  familiarity  increased  they  invited  him 
often  to  the  house  of  Imlac,  where  they  distin- 
guished him  by  extraordinary  respect.  He  began 
gradually  to  delight  in  sublunary  pleasures.     He 


DISAPPOINTMENTS.  1 8  5 

came  early  and  departed  late  ;  labored  to  recom- 
mend himself  by  assiduity  and  compliance ;  ex- 
cited their  curiosity  after  new  arts,  that  they, 
might  still  want  his  assistance  ;  and  when  they 
made  any  excursion  of  pleasure  or  inquiry,  en- 
treated to  attend  them. 

By  long  experience  of  his  integrity  and  wis- 
dom, the  prince  and  his  sister  were  convinced 
that  he  might  be  trusted  without  danger;  and, 
lest  he  should  draw  any  false  hopes  from  the  civ- 
ilities which  he  received,  discovered  to  him  their 
condition,  with  the  motives  of  their  journey ;  and 
required  his  opinion  on  the  choice  of  life. 

"  Of  the  various  conditions  which  the  world 
spreads  before  you,  which  you  shall  prefer,"  said 
the  sage,  "  I  am  not  able  to  instruct  you.  I_can 
only  lell  that  1  have  chosen  wrong.  I  have 
passed  my  time  in  studywithout  experience )  in 
the  attainment  of  sciences,  which  can,  for  the 
most  part,  be  but  remotely  useful  to  mankind. 
I  have  purchased  knowledge  at  the  expense  of  all 
m  comforts  of  life  ;  I  have  missed  the 
endearing  elegance  of  female  friendship,  and  the 
happy  commerce  of  domestic  tenderness.  If  I 
have  obtained  any  prerogatives  above  other  stu- 
dents, they  have  been  accompanied  with  fear, 
disquiet,  and  scrupulosity  ;  but  even  of  these  pre- 
rogatives, whatever  they  were,  I  have,  since  my 
thoughts  have  been  diversified  by  more  inter- 
course with   the  world,   begun   to   question   the 


1 86  RASSELAS. 

rgality.  When  I  have  been  for  a  few  days  lost 
in  pleasing  dissipation,  I  am  always  tempted  to 
think  that  my  inquiries  have  ended  in  error,  and 
that  I  have  suffered  much,  and  suffered  it  in  vain." 

Imlac  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  sage's  un- 
derstanding was  breaking  through  its  mists,  and 
resolved  to  detain  him  from  the  planets  till  he 
should  forget  his  task  of  ruling  them,  and  reason 
should  recover  its  original  influence. 

From  this  time  the  astronomer  was  received 
into  familiar  friendship,  and  partook  of  all  their 
projects  and  pleasures ;  his  respect  kept  him  at- 
tentive, and  the  activity  of  Rasselas  did  not  leave 
much  time  unengaged.  Something  was  always 
to  be  done ;  the  day  was  spent  in  making  obser- 
vations which  furnished  talk  for  the  evening,  and 
the  evening  was  closed  with  a  scheme  for  the 
morrow. 

The  sage  confessed  to  Imlac  that  since  he  had 
mingled  in  the  gay  tumults  of  life,  and  divided 
his  hours  by  a  succession  of  amusements,  he 
found  the  conviction  of  his  authority  over  the 
skies  fade  gradually  from  his  mind,  and  began 
to  trust  less  to  an  opinion  which  he  never  could 
prove  to  others,  and  which  he  now  found  subject 
to  variation,  from  causes  in  which  reason  had  no 
part.  "  If  I  am  accidentally  left  alone  for  a  few 
hours,"  said  he,  "  my  inveterate  persuasion  rushes 
upon  my  soul,  and  my  thoughts  are  chained  down 
by  some  irresistible  violence ;  but  they  are  soon 


MELANCHOLY.  187 

disentangled  by  the  prince's  conversation,  and  in- 
stantaneously released  at  the  entrance  of  Pekuah. 
I  am  like  a  man  habitually  afraid  of  spectres, 
who  is  set  at  ease  by  a  lamp,  and  wonders  at  the 
dread  which  harassed  him  in  the  dark ;  yet,  if 
his  lamp  be  extinguished,  feels  again  the  terrors 
which  he  knows  that  when  it  is  light  he  shall  feel 
no  more.  But  I  am  sometimes  afraid  lest  I  in- 
dulge my  quiet  by  criminal  negligence,  and  volun- 
tarily forget  the  great  charge  with  which  I  am 
intrusted.  If  I  favor  myself  in  a  known  error, 
or  am  determined  by  my  own  ease  in  a  doubtful 
question  of  this  importance,  how  dreadful  is  my 
crime  !  " 

"  No  disease  of  the  imagination,"  answered 
Imlac,  "is  so  difficult  of  cure  as  that  which  is 
complicated  with  the  dread  of  guilt.  Fancy  and 
conscience  then  act  interchangeably  upon  us,  and 
so  often  shift  their  places  that  the  illusions  of  one 
are  not  distinguished  from  the  dictates  of  the 
other.  If  fancy  presents  images  not  moral  or  re- 
ligious, the  mind  drives  them  away  when  they  give 
it  pain  ;  but  when  melancholic  notions  take  the 
form  of  duty,  they  lay  hold  on  the  faculties  with- 
out opposition,  because  we  are  afraid  to  exclude 
or  banish  them.  For  this  reason  the  superstitious 
are  often  melancholy,  and  the  melancholy  almost 
always  superstitious. 

"  But  do  not  let  the  suggestions  of  timidity 
overpower    your    better   reason :    the    danger   of 


1 88  HASSELAS. 

neglect  can  be  but  as  the  probability  of  the  obli- 
gation which,  when  you  consider  it  with  freedom, 
you  find  very  little,  and  that  little  growing  every 
day  less.  Open  your  heart  to  the  influence  of  the 
light,  which,  from  time  to  time,  breaks  in  upon 
you  :  when  scruples  importune  you,  which  you  in 
your  lucid  moments  know  to  be  vain,  do  not 
stand  to  parley,  but  fly  to  business  or  to  Pekuah, 
and  keep  this  thought  always  prevalent,  that  you 
are  only  one  atom  of  the  mass  of  humanity,  and 
have  neither  such  virtue  nor  vice  as  that  you 
should  be  singled  out  for  supernatural  favors  or 
afflictions." 


pyTT^^TjQQry^^z?' 


^"'*jsL£jBL&JtJzjijUjz~+^j^ 


CHAPTER   XLVII. 


THE    PRINCE    ENTERS,    AND    BRINGS    A    NEW    TOPIC. 


FIX  this,"  said  the  astronomer,  "  I  have 
often  thought,  but  my  reason  has 
been  so  long  subjugated  by  an  un- 
controllable and  overwhelming  idea, 
that  it  durst  not  confide  in  its  own  decisions.  I 
now  see  how  fatally  I  betrayed  my  quiet,  by  suf- 
fering chimeras  to  prey  upon  me  in  secret ;  but 
melancholy  shrinks  from  communication,  and  I 
never  found  a  man  before  to  whom  I  could  im- 
part my  troubles,  though  I  had  been  certain  of 
relief.  I  rejoice  to  find  my  own  sentiments  con- 
firmed by  yours,  who  are  not  easily  deceived,  and 
can  have  no  motive  or  purpose  to  deceive.  I 
hope  that  time  and  variety  will  dissipate  the  gloom 
that  has  so  long  surrounded  me,  and  the  latter 
part  of  my  days  will  be  spent  in  peace." 

"Your  learning  and  virtue,"  said  Imlac,  "may 
justly  give  you  hopes." 


190  RASSELAS. 

Rasselas  then  entered  with  the  princess  and 
-•  Pekuah,  and  inquired  whether  they  had  contrived 
any  new  diversions  for  the  next  day?  <cSttch,-~ 
said  Nekayah,  "  is  the  state  of  life  that  none  are 
happy  but  by  the  anticipation  of  change  :  the 
change  itself  is  nothing ;  when  we  have  made  it, 
the  next  wish  is  to  change  again.  The  world  is 
not  yet  exhausted  ;  let  me  see  something  to-mor- 
row which  I  never  saw  before." 

"  Variety,"  said  Rasselas,  "  is  so  necessary  to 
content,  that  even  the  Happy  Valley  disgusted  me 
by  the  recurrence  of  its  luxuries ;  yet  I  could  not 
forbear  to  reproach  myself  with  impatience,  when 
I  saw  the  monks  of  St.  Anthony  support  without 
complaint  a  life,  not  of  uniform  delight,  but  uni- 
form hardship." 

''Those  men,"  answered  Imlac,  "are  less 
wretched  in  their  silent  convent  than  the  Abyssi- 
nian princes  in  their  prison  of  pleasure.  What- 
ever is  done  by  the  monks  is  incited  by  an 
adequate  and  reasonable  motive.  Their  labor 
supplies  them  with  necessaries ;  it  therefore  can- 
not be  omitted,  and  is  certainly  rewarded.  Their 
devotion  prepares  them  for  another  state,  and  re- 
minds them  of  its  approach  while  it  fits  them  for 
it.  Their  time  is  regularly  distributed  ;  one  duty 
succeeds  another,  so  that  they  are  not  left  open 
to  the  distraction  of  unguided  choice,  nor  lost  in 
the  shades  of  listless  inactivity.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain task  to  be    performed    at   an   appropriated 


A  LIFE  OP  SECLUSION.  191 

hour ;  and  their  toils  are  cheerful,  because  they 
consider  them  as  acts  of  piety,  by  which  they  are 
always  advancing  towards  endless  felicity." 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  Nekayah,  "  that  the 
monastic  rule  is  a  more  holy  and  less  imperfect 
state  than  any  other?  May  not  he  equally  hope 
for  future  happiness  who  converses  openly  with 
mankind,  who  succors  the  distressed  by  his  char- 
ity, instructs  the  ignorant  by  his  learning,  and 
contributes  by  his  industry  to  the  general  system 
of  life ;  even  though  he  should  omit  some  of  the 
mortifications  which  are  practised  in  the  cloister, 
and  allow  himself  such  harmless  delights  as  his 
condition  may  place  within  his  reach?  " 

"  This,"  said  Imlac,  "  is  a  question  which  has 
long  divided  the  wise,  and  perplexed  the  good. 
I  am  afraid  to  decide  on  either  part.  .He  that 
lives  well  in  the  world,  is  better  than  he  that  lives 
well  in  a  monastery.  But,  perhaps,  every  one  is 
not  able  to  stem  the  temptations  of  public  life ; 
and  if  he  cannot  conquer  he  may  properly  retreat. 
Some  have  little  power  to  do  good,  and  have  like- 
wise little  strength  to  resist  evil.  Many  are  weary 
of  their  conflicts  with  adversity,  and  are  willing  to 
eject  those  passions  which  have  long  busied  them 
in  vain.  And  many  are  dismissed  by  age  and 
diseases  from  the  more  laborious  duties  of  society. 
In  monasteries  the  weak  and  timorous  may  be., 
happily  sheltered,  the  weary  may  repose,  and  the 
penitent  may  meditate.     Those  retreats  of  prayer 


% 


I92  HASSELAS. 

and  contemplation  have  something  so  congenial  to 
the  mind  of  man,  that,  perhaps,  there  is  scarcely 
one  that  does  not  purpose  to  close  his  life  in 
pious  abstraction  with  a  few  associates  as  serious 
as  himself." 

S  "  Such,"  said  Pekuah,  "  has  often  been  my 
wish,  and  I  have  heard  the  princess  declare  that 
she  could  not  willingly  die  in  a  crowd." 

"The  liberty  of  using  harmless  pleasures,"  pro- 
ceeded Imlac,  "  will  not  be  disputed ;  but  it  is 
still  to  be  examined  what  pleasures  are  harmless. 
The  evil  of  any  pleasure  that  Nekayah  can  image, 
is  not  in  the  act  itself,  but  in  its  consequences. 
Pleasure,  in  itself  harmless,  may  become  mis- 
chievous by  endearing  us  to  a  state  which  we 
know  to  be  transient  and  probatory,  and  with- 
drawing our  thoughts  from  that  of  which  every 
hour  brings  us  nearer  to  the  beginning,  and  of 
which  no  length  of  time  will  bring  us  to  the  end. 
Mortification  is  not  virtuous  in  itself,  nor  has  any 
other  use,  but  that  it  disengages  us  from  the  al- 
lurements of  sense.  In  the  state  of  future  perfec- 
tion, to  which  we  all  aspire,  there  will  be  pleasure 
without  danger,  and  security  without  restraint." 

The  princess  was  silent,  and  Rasselas,  turning 
to  the  astronomer,  asked  him  whether  he  could 
not  delay  her  retreat,  by  showing  her  something 
which  she  had  not  seen  before. 

"Your  curiosity,"  said  the  sage,  "has  been  so 
general,  and  your  pursuit  of  knowledge  so  vigo- 


THE   CATACOMBS.  1 93 

rous,  that  novelties  are  not  now  very  easily  to  be 
found ;  but  what  you  can  no  longer  procure  from 
the  living  may  be  given  by  the  dead.  Among 
the  wonders  of  this  country  are  the  Catacombs, 
or  the  ancient  repositories  in  which  the  bodies  of 
the  earliest  generations  were  lodged,  and  where, 
by  the  virtue  of  the  gums  which  embalmed  them, 
they  yet  remain  without  corruption." 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Rasselas,  "  what  pleasure 
the  sight  of  the  Catacombs  can  afford ;  but,  since 
nothing  else  is  offered,  I  am  resolved  to  view 
them,  and  shall  place  this  with  many  other  things 
which  I  have  done  because  I  would  do  some- 
thing." 

They  hired  a  guard  of  horsemen,  and  the  next 
day  visited  the  Catacombs.  When  they  were 
about  to  descend  into  the  sepulchral  caves,  "Pe- 
kuah,"  said  the  princess,  "  we  are  now  again  in- 
vading the  habitations  of  the  dead  ;  I  know  that 
you  will  stay  behind ;  let  me  find  you  safe  when 
Ixqfurn." 

\     "No,  I   will  not  be  left,"  answered  Pekuah ; 
V*J_I  will  go  down  between  you  and  the  prince." 

They  then  all  descended,  and  roved  with  won- 
der through  the  labyrinth  of  subterraneous  pas- 
sages, where  the  bodies  were  laid  in  rows  on  either 
side. 

13 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 


IMLAC    DISCOURSES   ON   THE   NATURE    OF   THE   SOUL. 


HAT  reason,"  said  the  prince,  "  can 
be  given  why  the  Egyptians  should 
thus  expensively  preserve  those  car- 
cases which  some  nations  consume 
with  fire,  others  lay  to  mingle  with  the  earth,  and 
all  agree  to  remove  from  their  sight  as  soon  as 
decent  rites  can  be  performed?  " 

"  The  original  of  ancient  customs,"  said  Imlac, 
"  is  commonly  unknown,  for  the  practice  often 
continues  when  the  cause  has  ceased ;  and  con- 
cerning superstitious  ceremonies  it  is  vain  to  con- 
jecture, for  what  reason  did  not  dictate,  reason 
cannot  explain.  I  have  long  believed  that  the 
practice  of  embalming  arose  only  from  tenderness 
to  the  remains  of  relations  or  friends,  and  to  this 
opinion  I  am  more  inclined  because  it  seems  im- 
possible that  this  care  should  have  been  general. 
Had  all  the   dead  been  embalmed,  their  reposi- 


THOUGHTS  ON  IMMORTALITY.  195 

tories  must  in  time  have  been  more  spacious  than 
the  dwellings  of  the  living.  I  suppose  only  the 
rich  or  honorable  were  secured  from  corruption, 
and  the  rest  left  to  the  course  of  Nature. 

"  But  it  is  commonly  supposed  that  the  Egyp- 
tians believed  the  soul  to  live  as  long  as  the  body 
continued  undissolved,  and  therefore  tried  this 
method  of  eluding  death." 

"Could  the  wise  Egyptians,"  said  Nekayah, 
"  think  so  grossly  of  the  soul  ?  If  the  soul  could 
once  survive  its  separation,  what  could  it  after- 
wards receive  or  suffer  from  the  body?  " 

"  The  Egyptians  would  doubtless  think  errone- 
ously," said  the  astronomer,  "  in  the  darkness 
of  heathenism  and  the  first  dawn  of  philosophy. 
The  nature  of  the  soul  is  still  disputed  amidst 
all  our  opportunities  of  clearer  knowledge.  Some 
yet  say  that  it  may  be  material,  who  nevertheless 
believe  it  to  be  immortal." 

"Some,"  answered  Imlac,  "have  indeed  said 
that  the  soul  is  material,  but  I  can  scarcely  be- 
lieve that  any  man  has  thought  it  who  knew  how 
to  think ;  for  all  the  conclusions  of  reason  en- 
force the  immateriality  of  mind,  and  all  the  no- 
tices of  sense  and  investigations  of  science  concur 
to  prove  the  unconsciousness  of  matter. 

"  It  was  never  supposed  that  cogitation  is  in- 
herent in  matter,  or  that  every  particle  is  a  think- 
ing being.  Yet,  if  any  part  of  matter  be  devoid 
of  thought,  what  part  can  we  suppose  to  think? 


196  RASSELAS. 

Matter  can  differ  from  matter  only  in  form,  den- 
sity, bulk,  motion,  and  direction  of  motion.  To 
which  of  these,  however  varied  or  combined,  can 
consciousness  be  annexed?  To  be  round  or 
square,  to  be  solid  or  fluid,  to  be  great  or  little, 
to  be  moved  slowly  or  swiftly  one  way  or  another, 
are  modes  of  material  existence,  all  equally  alien 
from  the  nature  of  cogitation.  If  matter  be  once 
without  thought,  it  can  only  be  made  to  think  by 
some  new  modification  ;  but  all  the  modifications 
which  it  can  admit  are  equally  unconnected  with 
cogitative  powers." 

"  But  the  materialists,"  said  the  astronomer, 
"  urge  that  matter  may  have  qualities  with  which 
we  are  unacquainted." 

"  He  who  will  determine,"  returned  Imlac, 
"  against  that  which  he  knows  because  there  may 
be  something  which  he  knows  not ;  he  that  can 
set  hypothetical  possibility  against  acknowledged 
certainty,J.s  not  to  be  admitted  among  reasonable 
beings.  [All  that  we  know  of  matter  is  that  mat- 
ter is  inert,  senseless,  and  lifeless ;  and  if  this 
conviction  cannot  be  opposed  but  by  referring 
us  to  something  that  we  know  not,  we  have  all  the 
evidence  that  human  intellect  can  admit.  If  that 
which  is  known  may  be  overruled  by  that  which 
is  unknown,  no  being,'  not  omniscient,  can  arrive 
at  certainty." 

"  Yet  let  us  not,"  said  the  astronomer,  "  too 
arrogantly  limit  the  Creator's  power." 


DEATH  AND  LIFE.  197 

"  It  is  no  limitation  of  omnipotence,"  replied 
the  poet,  "  to  suppose  that  one  thing  is  not  con- 
sistent with  another,  that  the  same  proposition 
cannot  be  at  once  true  and  false,  that  the  same 
number  cannot  be  even  and  odd,  that  cogitation 
cannot  be  conferred  on  that  which  is  created  in- 
capable of  cogitation." 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Nekayah,  "  any  great  use 
of  this  question.  Does  that  immateriality  which, 
in  my  opinion,  you  have  sufficiently  proved,  ne- 
cessarily include  eternal  duration?  " 

"Of  immateriality,"  said  Imlac,  "our  ideas 
are  negative,  and  therefore  obscure.  Immateri- 
ality seems  to  imply  a  natural  power  of  perpetual 
duration,  as  a  consequence  of  exemption  from  all 
causes  of  decay.  Whatever  perishes  is  destroyed 
by  the  solution  of  its  contexture  and  separation 
of  its  parts  ;  nor  can  we  conceive  how  that  which 
has  no  parts,  and  therefore  admits  no  solution, 
can  be  naturally  corrupted  or  impaired." 

"  I  know  not,"  said  Rasselas,  "  how  to  conceive 
anything  without  extension.  What  is  extended 
must  have  parts,  and  you  allow  that  whatever  has 
parts  may  be  destroyed." 

"  Consider  your  own  conceptions,"  replied 
Imlac,  "  and  the  difficulty  will  be  less.  You  will 
find  substance  without  extension.  An  ideal  form 
is  no  less  real  than  material  bulk  ;  yet  an  ideal  form 
has  no  extension.  It  is  no  less  certain,  when  you 
think  on  a  pyramid,  that  your  mind  possesses  the 


198  EASSELAS. 

idea  of  a  pyramid,  than  that  the  pyramid  itself  is 
standing.  What  space  does  the  idea  of  a  pyramid 
occupy  more  than  the  idea  of  a  grain  of  corn ;  or 
how  can  either  idea  suffer  laceration?  As  is  the 
effect,  such  is  the  cause ;  as  thought,  such  is  the 
power  that  thinks ;  a  power  impassive  and  indis- 
cerptible." 

"But  the  Being,"  said  Nekayah,  "whom  I  fear 
to  name,  the  Being  which  made  the  soul,  can  de- 
stroy it." 

"  He  surely  can  destroy  it,"  answered  Imlac, 
"  since,  however  unperishable,  it  receives  from  a 
superior  nature  its  power  of  duration.  That  it 
will  not  perish  by  any  inherent  cause  of  decay  or 
principle  of  corruption,  may  be  shown  by  philoso- 
phy ;  but  philosophy  can  tell  no  more.  That  it 
will  not  be  annihilated  by  Him  that  made  it,  we 
must  humbly  learn  from  higher  authority." 

rThe  whole  assembly  stood  a  while  silent  and 
collected.  "  Let  us  return,"  said  Rasselas,  "  from 
this  scene  of  mortality.  How  gloomy  would  be 
these  mansions  of  the  dead  to  him  who  did  not 
know  that  he  should  never  die ;  that  what  now 
acts  shall  continue  its  agency,  and  what  now 
thinks  shall  think  on  forever.  Those  that  lie  here 
stretched  before  us,  the  wise  and  the  powerful  of 
ancient  times,  warn  us  to  remember  the  shortness 
of  our  present  state  ;  they  were,  perhaps,  snatched 
away  while  they  were  busy  like  us  in  the  choice  of 
life." 


RETURN   TO  CAIRO. 


I99 


"  "To  me,"  said  the  princess,  "  the  choice  of  life 
is  become  less  important;  I  hope  hereafter  to 
think  only  on  the  choice  of  eternity." 

They  then  hastened  out  of  the  caverns ;  and, 
under  the  protection  of  their  guard,  returned  to 
Cairo. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

THE   CONCLUSION,    IN   WHICH   NOTHING   IS 
CONCLUDED. 

T  was  now  the  time  of  the  inundation  of 
the  Nile  :  a  few  days  after  their  visit 
to  the  Catacombs  the  river  began  to 
rise. 

They  were  confined  to  their  house.  The  whole 
region  being  under  water  gave  them  no  invitation 
to  any  excursions,  and,  being  well  supplied  with 
materials  for  talk,  they  diverted  themselves  with 
comparisons  of  the  different  forms  of  life  which 
they  had  observed,  and  of  various  schemes  of 
happiness,  which  each  of  them  had  formed. 

Pekuah  was  never  so  much  charmed  with  any 
place  as  the  convent  of  St.  Anthony,  where  the 
Arab  restored  her  to  the  princess,  and  wished 
only  to  fill  it  with  pious  maidens,  and  to  be  made 
prioress  of  the  order :  she  was  weary  of  expecta- 
tion and  disgust,  and  would  gladly  be  fixed  in 
some  invariable  state. 


CONCLUSION.  201 

The  princess  thought,  that  of  all  sublunary 
things,  knowledge  was  the  best.  She  desired  first 
to  learn  all  sciences,  and  then  proposed  to  found 
a  college  of  learned  women,  in  which  she  would 
preside,  that,  by  conversing  with  the  old,  and 
educating  the  young,  she  might  divide  her  time 
between  the  acquisition  and  communication  of 
wisdom,  and  raise  up  for  the  next  age  models  of 
prudence,  and  patterns  of  piety. 

The  prince  desired  a  little  kingdom,  in  which 
he  might  administer  justice  in  his  own  person,  and 
see  all  the  parts  of  the  government  with  his  own 
eyes.  But  he  could  never  fix  the  limits  of  his  do-  ' 
minion,  and  was  always  adding  to  the  number  of 
his  subjects. 

Imlac  and  the  astronomer  were  contented  to 
be  driven  along  the  stream  of  life,  without  direct- 
ing their  course  to  any  particular  port. 

Of  these  wishes  that  they  had  formed  they  well 
knew  that  none  could  be  obtained.  LXhey  deliber- 
ated awhile  what  was  to  be  done,  and  resolved, 
when  the  inundation  should  cease,  to  return  to 
Abyssinia.*- 1 


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posers of  the  standard  operas,  to  the  number  of  sixty-four,  and 
bringing  them  together  in  one  perfectly  arranged  volume.  .  .  . 
His  work  is  one  simply  invaluable  to  the  general  reading  pub- 
lic. Technicalities  are  avoided,  the  aim  being  to  give  to  musi- 
cally uneducated  lovers  of  the  opera  a  clear  understanding  of  the 
works  they  hear.  It  is  description,  not  criticism,  and  calculated 
to  greatly  increase  the  intelligent  enjoyment  of  music."  — Boston 
Traveller. 

"  Among  the  multitude  of  handbooks  which  are  published 
every  year,  and  are  described  by  easy-going  writers  of  book- 
notices  as  supplying  a  long-felt  want,  we  know  of  none  which 
so  completely  carries  out  the  intention  of  the  writer  as  '  The 
Standard  Operas,'  by  Mr.  George  P.  Upton,  whose  object  is  to 
present  to  his  readers  a  comprehensive  sketch  of  each  of  the 
operas  contained  in  the  modern  repertory.  .  .  .  There  are 
thousands  of  music-loving  people  who  will  be  glad  to  have  the 
kind  of  knowledge  which  Mr.  Upton  has  collected  for  their 
benefit,  and  has  cast  in  a  clear  and  compact  form."  —  R.  H. 
Stoddard,  in  "  Evening  Mail  and  Express  "  {New  York). 

"The  summaries  of  the  plots  are  so  clear,  logical,  and  well 
written,  that  one  can  read  them  with  real  pleasure,  which  cannot 
be  said  of  the  ordinary  operatic  synopses.  But  the  most  im- 
portant circumstance  is  that  Mr.  Upton's  book  is  fully  abreast 
of  the  times."  —  Ttie  Nation  (New  York). 


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TALES  FROM  FOREIGN  TONGUES. 


MEMORIES.    A  Story  of  German  Love.     By 

Max  Muller. 
GRAZIELLA.     A    Story  of  Italian  Love.     By 

Alphonse  de  Lamartine. 
MADELEINE.     A  Story  of  French  Love.     By 

Jules  Sandeau. 
MARIE.     A     Story    of    Russian    Love.      By 

Alexander  Tushkin. 

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♦ 

The  series  of  four  volumes  forms,  perhaps,  the  choicest 
addition  to  the  literature  of  the  English  language  that  has 
been  made  in  recent  years. 

Of  "  Memories,"  the  London  Academy  says  :  "  It  is  a  prose 
poem.  ...  Its  beauty  and  pathos  show  us  a  fresh  phase  of  a 
many-sided  mind,  to  which  we  already  owe  large  debts  of 
gratitude." 

Of  "  Graziella,"  the  Boston  Post  says:  "  It  is  full  of  beauti- 
ful sentiment,  unique  and  graceful  in  style,  of  course,  as  were 
all  the  writings  of  this  distinguished  French  author." 

Of  '"Madeleine,"  the  New  York  Evenitig  Mail  says:  "  It  is 
one  of  the  most  exquisite  love  tales  that  ever  was  written, 
abounding  in  genuine  pathos  and  sparkling  wit,  and  so  pure  in 
its  sentiment  that  it  may  be  read  by  a  child." 

Of  "  Marie,"    the  Cincinnati  Gazette  says :  "  It  is  one  of  the 
purest,  sweetest  little  narratives  that  we  have  read  for  a  long 
time.     It  is  a  little  classic,  and  a  Russian  classic,  too." 
♦ 

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THE   BOOK-LOVER.     A  Guide  to  the 
Best    Reading.      By   James     Baldwin,    Ph.  D. 
Sixth  edition,  i6mo,    cloth,   gilt  top,  201  pages.    Price, 

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Of  this  bnok,  on  the  best  in  English  Literature,  which  has 
already  been  declared  of  the  highest  value  by  the  testimony  of 
the  best  critics  in  this  country,  an  edition  of  one  thousand  copies 
has  just  been  ordered  for  London,  the  home  of  English  Liter- 
ature,—  a  compliment  of  which  its  scholarly  western  author  may 
justly  be  proud. 

We  know  of  no  work  of  the  kind  which  gives  so  much  useful 
information  in  so  small  a  space.  —  Evening  Telegram,  New 
York. 

Sound  in  theory  and  in  a  practical  point  of  view.  The  courses 
of  reading  laid  down  are  made  of  good  books,  and  in  general,  of 
the  best.  —  Independent,  New  York. 

Mr.  Baldwin  has  written  in  this  monograph  a  delightful  eulo- 
gium  of  books  and  their  manifold  influence,  and  has  gained 
therein  two  classes  of  readers,  —  the  scholarly  class,  to  which  he 
belongs,  and  the  receptive  class,  which  he  has  benefited.  — 
Evening  Mail  and  Express,  New  York. 

If  a  man  needs  that  the  love  of  books  be  cultivated  within  him, 
such  a  gem  of  a  book  as  Dr.  Baldwin's  ought  to  do  the  work. 
Perfect  and  inviting  in  all  that  a  book  ought  outwardly  to  be,  Ls 
contents  are  such  as  to  instruct  the  mind  at  the  same  time  that 
they  answer  the  taste,  and  the  readerwho  goes  carefully  through 
its  two  hundred  pages  ought  not  only  to  love  books  in  general 
better  than  he  ever  did  before,  but  to  love  them  more  wisely, 
more  intelligently,  more  discriminatingly,  and  with  more  profit, 
to  his  own  soul.  — Literary  World,  Boston. 


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TALES      OF     ANCIENT      GREECE. 
By  the  Rev.  Sir  G.  W.  Cox,  Bart.,  M.A.,  Trinity 
College,  Oxford. 

i2mo,  cloth,  price,  $i  25. 

♦ 

"  Written  apparently  for  young  readers,  it  yet  possesses  a 
charm  of  manner  which  will  recommend  it  to  all." —  The  Ex- 
aminer, London. 

"  It  is  only  when  we  take  up  such  a  book  as  this  that  we  real- 
ize how  rich  in  interest  is  the  mythology  of  Greece."  —  Inquirer, 
Philadelphia. 

"Admirable  in  style,  and  level  with  a  child's  comprehension. 
These  versions  might  well  find  a  place  in  every  family."  —  The 
Nation,  New  York. 

"  The  author  invests  these  stories  with  a  charm  of  narrative 
entirely  peculiar.  The  book  is  a  rich  one  in  every  way."  — 
Standard,  Chicago. 

"  In  Mr.  Cox  will  be  found  yet  another  name  to  be  enrolled 
among  those  English  writers  who  have  vindicated  for  this  coun- 
try an  honorable  rank  in  the  investigation  of  Greek  history."  — 
Edinburgh  Review. 

"It  is  doubtful  if  these  tales  —  antedating  history  in  their 
origin,  and  yet  fresh  with  all  the  charms  of  youth  to  all  who 
read  them  for  the  first  time  —  were  ever  before  presented  in  so 
chaste  and  popular  form." —  Golden  Rule,  Boston. 

"  The  grace  with  which  these  old  tales  of  the  mythology  are 
re-told  makes  them  as  enchanting  to  the  young  as  familiar  fairy 
tales  or  the  'Arabian  Nights.'  .  .  .  We  do  not  know  of  a  Christ- 
mas book  which  promises  more  lasting  pleasures."  —  Publishers' 
Weekly. 

"  Its  exterior  fits  it  to  adorn  the  drawing-room  table,  while  its 
contents  are  adapted  to  the  entertainment  of  the  most  cultivated 
intelligence.  .  .  .  The  book  is  a  scholarly  production,  and  a 
welcome  addition  to  a  department  of  literature  that  is  thus  far 
quite  too  scantily  furnished." —  Tribune,  Chicago. 
• 

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SHORT  HISTORY  OF  FRANCE, 
FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE.  By  Miss  E.  S.  Kirk- 
land,  author  of  "Six  Little  Cooks,"  "Dora's  House- 
keeping,"  &c. 

i2mo,  cloth,  price,  $1.25. 
♦ 

"  A  very  ably  written  sketch  of  French  history,  from  the  ear- 
liest times  to  the  foundation  of  the  existing  Republic."  —  Cin- 
cinnati Gazette. 

"  The  narrative  is  not  dry  on  a  single  page,  and  the  little  his- 
tory may  be  commended  as  the  best  of  its  kind  that  has  yet 
appeared."  —  Bulletin,  Philadelphia- 

"A  book  both  instructive  and  entertaining.  It  Js  not  a  dry 
compendium  of  dates  and  facts,  but  a  charmingly  written  his- 
tory." —  Christian   Union,  New  York. 

"  After  a  careful  examination  of  its  contents,  we  are  able  to 
conscientiously  give  it  our  heartiest  commendation.  We  know  no 
elementary  history  of  France  that  can  at  all  be  compared  with 
it."  —  Living  Church. 

"  A  spirited  and  entertaining  sketch  of  the  French  people  and 
nation.  —  one  that  will  seize  and  hold  the  attention  of  all  bright 
boys  and  girls  who  have  a  chance  to  read  it."  —  Sunday  After- 
noon, Springfield  (Mass.). 

"  We  find  its  descriptions  universally  good,  that  it  is  admirably 
simple  and  direct  in  style,  without  waste  of  words  or  timidity  of 
opinion.  The  book  represents  a  great  deal  of  patient  labor  and 
conscientious  study."  —  Couranl,  Hartford  (Conn.). 

"  Miss  Kirkland  has  composed  her  '  Short  History  of  France* 
in  the  way  in  which  a  history  for  young  people  ought  to  be  writ- 
ten ;  that  is,  she  has  aimed  to  present  a  consecutive  and  agreea- 
ble story,  from  which  the  reader  can  not  only  learn  the  names  of 
kings  and  the  succession  of  events,  but  can  also  receive  a  vivid 
and  permanent  impression  as  to  the  characters,  modes  of  life, 
and  the  spirit  of  different  periods." —  The  Nation,  New  York. 


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HTHE   SURGEON'S   STORIES.     By  Z. 
J-     Topelius,  Professor  of  History,  University  of 
Finland.      Translated   from   the   original    Swedish 
comprising  — 
TIMES   OF   GTJSTAF   ADOLF, 

TIMES  OF   BATTLE   AND  REST, 
TIMES   OF   CHARLES  XII., 

TIMES  OF  FREDERICK  I., 
TIMES   OF   LINN.EUS, 

TIMES  OF  ALCHEMY. 

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♦ 

These  stories  have  been  everywhere  received  with  the  greatest 
favor.  They  cover  the  most  interesting  and  exciting  periods  of 
Swedish  and  Finnish  history.  They  combine  history  and  romance, 
and  the  two  are  woven  together  in  so  skilful  and  attractive  a  man- 
ner that  the  reader  of  one  volume  is  rarely  satisfied  until  he  has 
read  all.  Of  their  distinguished  author  the  Saturday  Review, 
London,  savs :  "  He  enjoys  the  greatest  celebrity  among  hying 
Swedish  writers;  "  and  R.  H.  Stoddard  has  styled  them  the 
most  important  and  certainly  the  most  readable  series  of  foreign 
fiction  that  has  been  translated  into  English  for  many  years. 
They  should  stand  on  the  shelves  of  every  library,  public  and 
private,  beside  the  works  of  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

The   Graphic,  New   York,  says  : 

"Topelius  is  evidently  a  great  romancer,— a  great  romancer  in 
the  manner  of  Walter  Scott.  At  moments  in  his  writing  there^is 
positive  inspiration,  a  truth  and  vivid  reality  that  are  startling." 

The  Sun,  Philadelphia,  says  : 
"  We  would  much  prefer  teaching  a  youth    Swedish  history 
from  the  novels  of  Topelius  than  from  any  book  of  strict  histori- 
cal narrative." 

• 

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FAMILIAR  TALKS  ON  ENGLISH 
LITERATURE.  A  Manual  embracing  the  Great 
Epochs  of  English  Literature,  from  the  English  conquest 
of  Britain,  449,  to  the  death  of  Walter  Scott,  1832.  By 
Abby  Sage  Richardson.  Fourth  edition,  revised. 
Price  #1.50. 

• 

The  Boston  Transcript  says : 

"The  work  shows  thorough  study  and  excellent  judgment, 
and  we  can  warmly  recommend  it  to  schools  and  private  classes 
for  reading  as  an  admirable  text-book." 

The  New  York  Evening  Mail  says: 
"What  the  author  proposed  to  do  was  to  convey  to  her  read- 
ers a  clear  idea  of  the  variety,  extent,  and  richness  of  English 
literature.  •  .  .  She  has  done  just  what  she  intended  to  do,  and 
done  it  well." 

The  New  York  Nation  says : 

"  It  is  refreshing  to  find  a  book  designed  for  young  readers 
which  seeks  to  give  only  what  will  accomplish  the  real  aim  of 
the  study ;  namely,  to  excite  an  interest  in  English  literature, 
cultivate  a  taste  for  what  is  best  in  it,  and  thus  lay  a  foundation 
on  which  they  can  build  after  reading." 

Prof.  Moses  Coit  Tyler  says  : 

"I  have  had  real  satisfaction  in  looking  over  the  book.  There 
are  some  opinions  with  which  I  do  not  agree  ;  but  the  main  thing 
about  the  book  is  a  good  thing  ;  namely,  its  hearty,  wholesome 
love  of  English  literature,  and  the  honest,  unpretending,  bu' 
genial  and  conversational,  manner  in  which  that  love  is  uttered. 
It  is  a  charming  book  to  read,  and  it  will  breed  in  its  readers  the 
appetite  to  read  English  literature  for  themselves." 


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T3I0GRAPHIES    OF    MUSICIANS. 

LIFE    OF    LISZT.     With  Portrait. 

LIFE    OF    HAYDN.     With  Portrait 

LIFE    OF    MOZART.     With  Portrait. 

LIFE    OF    WAGNER.     With  Portrait. 

LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN.     With  Portrait. 

From  the  German  of  Dr.  Louis  Nohl. 

In  cloth,  per  volume $  i.oo 

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• 

Of  the  "Life  of  Liszt,"  the  Herald  (Boston)  says:  "  It  is 
written  in  great  simplicity  and  perfect  taste,  and  is  wholly  suc- 
cessful in  all  that  it  undertakes  to  portray." 

Of  the  "  Life  of  Haydn,"  the  Gazette  (Boston)  says :  "  No 
fuller  history  of  Haydn's  career,  the  society  in  which  he  moved, 
and  of  Ins  personal  life  can  be  found  than  is  given  in  this  work." 

Of  the  "  Life  of  Mozart,"  the  Standard  says:  "Mozart  sup- 
plies a  fascinating  subject  for  biographical  treatment.  He  lives 
in  these  pages  somewhat  as  the  world  saw  him,  from  his  marvel- 
lous boyhood  til!  his  untimely  death." 

Of  the  "  Life  of  Wagner,"  the  American  (Baltimore)  says: 
"  It  gives  in  vigorous  outlines  those  events  of  the  life  of  the  tone 
poet  which  exercised  the  greatest  influences  upon  his  artistic 
career.  ...  It  is  a  story  of  a  strange  life  devoted  to  lofty  aims." 

Of  the  "  Life  of  Beethoven,"  the  National  Journal  0/  Edu- 
cation says  :  "  Beethoven  was  great  and  noble  as  a  man,  and 
his  artistic  creations  were  in  harmony  with  his  great  nature. 
The  story  of  his  life,  outlined  in  this  volume,  is  of  the  deepest 

interest." 

' ♦ 

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iv/rusic-STUDY  in  Germany.  By 

■*-»•■■     Amy  Fay.  Eighth  edition.  i2mo,  352  pages. 

Price,  $1.25. 

— ♦ — 

"  One  of  the  brightest  small  books  we  have  seen  is  Amy  Fay's 
'  Music-Study  in  Germany.'  These  letters  were  written  home 
by  a  young  lady  who  went  to  Germany  to  perfect  her  piano- 
playing.  They  are  full  of  simple,  artless,  yet  sharp  and  intelli- 
gent sayings  concerning  the  ways  and  tastes  of  the  fatherland. 
.  .  .  Her  observation  is  close  and  accurate,  and  the  sketches  of 
Tausig,  Liszt,  and  other  musical  celebrities  are  capitally  done." 
■ — Christian  Advocate  {Neiv  York). 

"  It  is  bright  and  entertaining,  being  filled  with  descriptions, 
opinions,  and  facts  in  regard  to  the  many  distinguished  musi- 
cians and  artists  of  the  present  day.  A  little  insight  into  the 
home  life  of  the  German  people  is  presented  to  the  reader,  and 
the  atmosphere  of  art  seems  to  give  a  brightness  and  worth  to 
the  picture,  which  imparts  pleasure  with  the  interest  it  creates." 
—  Dwighi '  s  Journal  of  Music. 

"The  intrinsic  value  of  the  work  is  great;  its  simplicity,  its 
minute  details,  its  freedom  from  every  kind  of  affectation,  con- 
stitute in  themselves  most  admirable  qualities.  The  remarkably 
intimate  and  open  picture  we  get  of  Liszt  surpasses  any  picture 
of  him  heretofore  afforded.  It  is  a  charming  picture,  strong, 
simple,  gracious,  noble,  and  sincere." —  Times  (Chicago). 

"  In  delicacy  of  touch,  vivacity  and  ease  of  expression,  and 
general  charm  of  style,  these  letters  are  models  in  their  way. 
The  pictures  which  she  gives  of  the  various  masters  under 
whom  she  studied  have  the  value  that  all  such  representations 
possess  when  they  are  drawn  from  life  and  with  fidelity."  — 
Graphic  (New  York). 

♦ 

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HOME  LIFE  OF  GREAT  AUTHORS. 
By  Hattie  Tyng  Griswold,  i2mo,  3S5  pages. 
Price,  £1.50. 

In  half  calf  or  half  morocco,  $3-50 


A  collection  of  upward  of  thirty  descriptive  sketches,  hav- 
ing for  their  subjects  Byron,  Burns,  the  Brownings,  Bryant,  Bul- 
wer,  Bionte  (Charlotte),  Carlyle,  Dickens,  DeStael,  DeQuincey, 
Eliot  (George),  Emerson,  Fuller  (Margaret),  Irving,  Goethe, 
Hawthorne,  Holmes,  Hugo,  Kingsley,  Lowell,  Lamb,  Long- 
fellow, Macaulay,  North  ( Kit),  Poe,  Ruskin,  Shelley,  Scott,  Sand 
(George),  Thackeray,  Tennyson,  Wordsworth,  and  Whitlier. 

No  such  excellent  collection  of  brief  biographies  of  literary 
favorites  has  ever  before  appeared  in  this  country.  Mrs.  Gris- 
wold's  taste  and  discretion  are  as  much  to  be  admired  as  her  in- 
dustry in  the  composition  of  these  delightful  sketches.  —  The 
Bulletin,  Philadelphia. 

Most  often  we  have  a  condensed  biography,  with  special  at- 
tention given  to  the  personal  element  in  the  way  of  description, 
anecdote,  reminiscences,  and  other  such  matters  as  a  skilful  col- 
lector could  gather  from  the  plentiful  sources  of  such  information. 
There  is  a  noticeable  good  taste  shown  in  dealing  with  those 
more  intimate  portions  of  the  lives  of  the  heroes  and  heroines,  — 
the  affaires  de  ca>ur.  — The  Nation,  New  York. 

The  author  has  shown  a  rare  discrimination  in  the  treatment  of 
her  subjects.  And  in  nothing  has  this  faculty  been  better  dis- 
played than  in  her  selection  of  authors.  This  alone  is  a  difficult 
task,  —  one  in  which  any  writer  would  be  sure  to  offend,  at  least 
by  omission.  But  the  table  of  contents  of  this  book  is  a  gratify- 
ing success,  and  the  menu  here  provided  will  abundantly  satisfy 
the  most  of  readers.  —  The  Express,  Buffalo. 


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'"THE  STANDARD  CANTATAS.  Their 

-*-  Stories,  their  Music,  and  their  Composers.  A  Hand- 
book. By  George  P.  Upton.  i2mo,  367  pages,  yellow 
edges,  price,  $1.50  ;  extra  gilt,  gilt  edges,  £2.00. 

In  half  calf,  gilt  top  ...  .  $3.25 
In  half  morocco,  gilt  edges  .  3.75 
In  full  morocco,  flexible      .     .       6.00 


The  "  Standard  Cantatas  "  forms  the  third  volume  in  the  uni- 
form series  which  already  includes  the  now  we'll  known  "  Stan- 
dard Operas"  and  the  "  Standard  Oratorios."  This  latest  work 
deals  with  a  class  of  musical  compositions,  midway  between  the 
opera  and  the  oratorio,  which  is  growing  rapidly  in  favor  both 
with  composers  and  audiences. 

As  in  the  two  former  works,  the  subject  is  treated,  so  far  as 
possible,  in  an  untechnical  manner,  so  that  it  may  satisfy  the 
needs  of  musically  uneducated  music  lovers,  and  add  to  their  en- 
joyment by  a  plain  statement  of  the  story  of  the  cantata  and  a 
popular  analysis  of  its  music,  with  brief  pertinent  selections  from 
its  poetical  text. 

The  book  includes  a  comprehensive  essay  on  the  origin  of  the 
cantata,  and  its  development  from  rude  beginnings  ;  biographical 
sketches  of  the  composers;  carefully  prepared  descriptions  of 
the  plots  and  the  music  ;  and  an  apptendix  containing  the  names 
and  dates  of  composition  of  all  the  best  known  cantatas  from  the 
earliest  times. 

This  series  of  works  on  popular  music  has  steadily  grown  in 
favor  since  the  appearance  of  the  first  volume  on  the  Operas. 
When  the  series  is  completed,  as  it  will  be  next  year  bva  volume 
on  the  Standard  Symphonies,  it  will  be,  as  the  New  York 
"  Nation  '  has  said,  indispensable  to  every  musical  library. 


-♦- 


Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed  on  receipt  of  price,  by 
A.   C.   McCLURG  &  CO.,   Publishers, 

Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago. 


WHIST    SCORES    AND     CARD- 
TABLE     TALK.       With    a    Bibliography    of 
Whist.    By  Rudolf  H.  Rheinhardt. 

Illustrated,  i2mo,  310  pages,  gilt  top,  $1.00. 

♦ 

Every  whist-player,  we  think,  will  find  this  volume  a  treasure- 
house  of  information  and  a  source  of  pleasure.  It  gives  us  the 
literature  of  cards,  and  a  thoroughly  interesting  literature  it  is. 
.  .  .  The  author  is  a  bright  writer,  and  his  book  is  sure  to  prove 
a  congenial  as  well  as  useful  whist-table  companion.  —  The  Ex- 
press, Buffalo. 

It  is  a  compendium  of  interesting  facts  in  regard  to  the  game 
of  whist,  including  those  relative  to  the  origin,  varieties,  and 
manufacture  of  cards,  their  peculiarities  in  different  countries, 
etiquette  of  the  card-table,  tricks  with  cards,  fortune-telling, 
quotations  from  famous  people  touching  cards  and  gaming,  and 
in  fact  almost  everything  that  can  be  thought  of  in  connection 
with  the  subject.  —  The  Transcript,  Boston. 

Mr.  Rheinhardt  has  not  only  made  a  pretty  book,  but  also 
done  a  new  thing.  He  has  prepared  a  whist  score-book  to  con- 
tain the  record  of  the  play  during  two  hundred  and  fifty  even- 
ings, allowing  ample  space  for  all  important  data  and  for  explan- 
atory remarks.  This  is  welcome  and  useful,  but  it  is  not  the 
most  interesting  part  of  the  book.  These  scores  are  introduced 
by  a  brief  bibliography  of  cards  and  gaming,  and  by  a  more 
elaborate  bibliography  of  whist.  The  latter  is  much  the  fullest 
that  we  have  seen  ;  and  although  the  former  might  be  amplified 
to  advantage,  —  especially  by  the  inclusion  of  many  more 
French  works,  —  it  contains  nearly  all  the  chief  books.  Then, 
on  the  back  of  the  whist  scores,  which  fill  only  the  even  pages, 
is  an  excellent  collection  of  ana  and  anecdotes  about  playing  cards 
and  card-playing,  gathered  from  the  best  sources  and  carefully 
credited.  —  The  Nation,  New  York. 
♦ 

Sold  by  ail  booksellers,  or  mailed  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

A.   C.   McCLURG  &  CO.,   Publishers, 

Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago. 


WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE.     By 
Victor  Hugo.     Translated  by  Melville  B. 
Anderson,  Svo,  gilt  top,  425  pages.     Price,  #2.00. 

In  half  calf  or  half  morocco,  $4.00. 


This  is  pre-eminently  the  most  characteristic,  the  most  in- 
tensely Hugoesque  of  all  the  author's  prose  works.  "The 
splendid  eloquence  and  heroic  enthusiasm  of  Victor  Hugo," 
says  Swinburne,  "  never  found  more  noble  and  sustained  ex- 
pression than  in  this  volume." 

Few  prose  works  of  the  great  French  novelist  and  poet  have  a 
greater  interest  for  English  readers  than  this  volume.  —  The 
Book  Buyer,  New  York. 

Here,  then,  is  a  book  that  ought  to  have  a  wide  reading  in 
America.  .  .  .  No  man  but  will  live  and  breathe  more  gener- 
ously, nobly,  and  hopefully  for  reading  Victor  Hugo's  book.  — 
Tlie  Herald,  Boston. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  name  a  book  with  so  many  unforgettable 
sayings  upon  art  and  literature,  so  many  paragraphs  rhythmic 
with  passionate  enthusiasm  for  progress  and  justice.  —  The 
Transcript,  Boston. 

To  read  it  is  an  education,  to  reflect  upon  it  is  an  inspiration. 
To  the  translator  the  English-reading  world  is  under  a  large 
debt  of  gratitude,  for  he  has  given  us  a  book  which  will  out- 
last the  age  in  which  it  has  been  written.  —  The  Keystone, 
Ph  ila  delph  ia . 

This  volume  is  much  more  than  a  study  of  Shakespeare.  AH  his- 
tory, all  theology,  and  all  philosophy  are  grasped  and  handled  with 
titanic  force,  the  bard  of  Avon  furnishing  the  pretext  for  magni- 
ficent speculation.  Why  has  this  great  work  of  Shakespeare 
never  before  been  Anglicized  ?  —  The  Bulletin,  Philadelphia. 


Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed  on  receipt  of  price,  by 
A.   C.  McCLURG    &  CO.,   Publishers, 

Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago 


T    IFE     OF     ABRAHAM      LINCOLN, 

■* — '    By  the   Hon.  Isaac    N.    Arnold.     With   Steel 
Portrait.     Svo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  471  pages.     Price,  S2.50. 

In  half  calf,  $4  75  ;   half  morocco,  $5. 00. 
* 

It  is  decidedly  the  best  and  most  complete  Life  of  Lincoln 
that  has  yet  appeared.  —  Contemporary  Review,  London. 

Mr.  Arnold  succeeded  to  a  singular  extent  in  assuming  the 
broad  view  and  judicious  voice  of  posterity  and  exhibiting  the 
greatest  figure  of  our  time  in  its  true  perspective.  —  The  Trib- 
une., Ni-jj  }  'ork. 

It  is  the  only  Life  of  Lincoln  thus  far  published  that  is  likely 
to  live, —  the  only  one  that  has  any  serious  pretensions  to  depict 
him  with  adequate  veracity,  completeness,  and  dignity. —  The 
Sun,  New  York. 

The  author  knew  Mr.  Lincoln  long  and  intimately,  and  no  one 
was  better  lilted  for  the  task  of  preparing  his  biography.  He 
has  written  with  tenderness  and  fidelity,  with  keen  discrimina- 
tion, and  with  graphic  powers  of  description  and  analysis.  —  The 
Interior,  Chisago. 

Mr.  Arnold's  "  Life  of  President  Lincoln  "  is  excellent  in 
almost  every  respect.  .  .  .  The  author  has  painted  a  graphic  and 
life-like  portrait  of  the  remarkable  man  who  was  called  to  decide 
on  the  destinies  of  his  country  at  the  crisis  of  its  fale  —  The 
Times,  London 

The  book  is  particularly  rich  in  incidents  connected  with  the 
early  career  of  Mr.  Lincoln  ;  and  it  is  without  exception  the 
most  satisfaclory  record  of  his  life  that  has  yet  been  written. 
Readers  will  also  find  that  in  its  entirety  it  is  a  work  of  absorb- 
ing and  enduring  interest  that  will  enchain  the  attention  more 
effectually  than  any  novel.  —  Magazine  of  American  History, 
New  York. 

* 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

A.   C.   McCLURG   &  CO.,  Publishers, 

Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago. 


T^HE    AZTECS.     Their    History,    Man- 

•*-       ners,  and  Customs.    From  the  French  of  Lucien 
Biart.     Authorized  translation  by  J.  L.  Garner. 
Illustrated,  8vo,  340  pages,  price,  $2.00. 


The  author  has  travelled  through  the  country  of  whose  former 
glories  his  book  is  a  recital,  and  his  studies  and  discoveries  leaven 
the  book  throughout.  The  volume  is  absorbingly  interesting, 
and  is  as  attractive  in  style  as  it  is  in  material.  —  Saturday 
Evening;  Gazette,  Boston. 

Nowhere  has  this  subject  been  more  fully  and  intelligently 
treated  than  in  this  volume,  now  placed  within  reach  of  American 
readers.  The  mythology  of  the  Aztecs  receives  special  attention, 
and  all  that  is  known  of  their  lives,  their  hopes,  their  fears,  and 
aspirations  finds  record  here. —  Tfie  Tribune,  Chicago. 

The  man  who  can  rise  from  the  study  of  Lucien  Biart's  inval- 
uable work,  "The  Aztecs,"  without  feelings  of  amazement  and 
admiration  for  the  history  and  the  government,  and  for  the  arts 
cultivated  by  these  Romans  of  the  New  World  is  not  to  be 
envied. —  The  Advance,  Chicago. 

The  twilight  origin  of  the  present  race  is  graphically  presented ; 
those  strange  people  whose  traces  have  almost  vanished  from  off 
the  face  of  the  earth  again  live  before  us.  Their  taxes  and  trib- 
utes, their  marriage  ceremonies,  their  burial  customs,  laws, 
medicines,  food,  poetry,  and  dances  are  described  .  .  .  The 
book  is  a  very  interesting  one,  and  is  brought  out  with  copious 
illustrations.  —  The  Traveller,  Boston. 

M.  Biart  is  the  most  competent  authority  living  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Aztecs.  He  spent  many  years  in  Mexico,  studied 
his  subject  carefully  through  all  means  of  information,  and  wrote 
his  book  from  the  view-point  of  a  scientist.  His  style  is  very  at- 
tractive, and  it  has  been  very  successfully  translated.  The  gen- 
eral reader,  as  well  as  all  scholars,  will  be  much  taken  with  the 
work.  —  Chronicle  Telegraph,  Pittsburg. 
♦ 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

A.   C.   McCLURG  &   CO.,   Publishers, 

Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago. 


VyE    TWO    ALONE     IN     EUROPE. 

*   *        By  Mary  L.  Ninde.    Illustrated  from  Original 

Designs. 

nmo,  348  pages,  price,  $1.50. 

♦ 

The  foreign  travels  which  gave  rise  to  this  volume  were  of  a 
novel  and  perhaps  unprecedented  kind.  Two  young  American 
girls  started  for  "  the  grand  tour  "  with  the  father  of  one  of  them, 
and  he  being  compelled  to  return  home  from  London  they  were 
courageous  enough  to  continue  their  journeyings  alone.  They 
spent  two  years  in  travel,  —  going  as  far  north  as  the  North  Cape 
and  south  to  the  Nile,  and  including  in  their  itinerary  St.  Peters- 
burg and  Moscow.  Miss  Ninde 's  narrative  is  written  in  a  fresh 
and  sprightly  but  unsensational  style,  which,  with  the  unusual  ex- 
periences portrayed,  renders  the  work  quite  unlike  the  ordinary 
books  of  travel. 

It  is  a  narrative  told  so  naturally  and  so  vividly  that  the  two 
gentle  travellers  do  not  seem  to  be  "  alone,"  but  to  have  taken  at 
least  the  reader  along  with  them.  ...  It  is  filled  with  so  many 
interesting  glimpses  of  sights  and  scenes  in  many  lands  as  to  ren- 
der it  thoroughly  entertaining. —  The  Congregationalist,  Boston. 

As  the  work  of  a  bright  American  girl,  the  book  is  sure  to  com- 
mand wide  attention.  The  volume  is  handsomely  bound  and 
copiously  illustrated  with  views  drawn,  if  we  mistake  not,  by  the 
author's  own  fair  hands,  so  well  do  they  accord  with  the  viva- 
cious spirit  of  her  narrative.  —  Times,  Troy,  New   York. 

In  these  days  when  letters  and  books  about  travels  in  Europe 
have  become  generally  monotonous,  to  say  the  least,  it  is  absolute- 
ly refreshing  to  get  hold  of  a  bright,  original  book  like  "  We  Two 
alone  in  Europe."  .  .  .  The  book  is  especially  interesting  for 
its  fresh,  bright  observations  on  manners,  customs,  and  objects 
of  interest  as  viewed  through  these  young  girls'  eyes,  and  the 
charming  spice  of  adventure  running  through  it.  —  Home  Jour- 
nal, Boston. 

♦ 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

A.   C.  McCLURG   &  CO.,   Publishers, 

Cor.  Wabash  Avh.  and  Madison   St.,  Chicago- 


THE  HUMBLER  POETS.  A  Colleo 
ticn  of  Newspaper  and  Periodical  Verse.  1S70  to 
1S85.  By  Slason  Thompson.  Crown  Svo,  459  pages, 
cloth,  gilt  top.    Price,  $2.00. 

In  half  calf  or  half  morocco,  $4.00. 

* 

The  publishers  have  done  well  in  issuing  this  volume  in  a 
style  of  literary  and  artistic  excellence,  such  as  is  given  to  the 
works  of  the  poets  of  name  and  fame,  because  the  contents  richly 
entitle  it  to  such  distinction.  —  Home  Journal,  Boston. 

The  high  poetic  character  of  these  poems,  as  a  whole,  is  sur- 
prising. As  a  unit,  the  collection  makes  an  impression  which 
even  a  genius  of  the  highest  order  would  not  be  adequate  to  pro- 
duce. .  .  .  Measured  by  poetic  richness,  variety,  and  merit  of 
the  selections  contained,  the  collection  is  a  rarely  good  one 
flavored  with  the  freshness  and  aroma  of  the  present  time. — 
Independent,  New  York. 

Mr.  Thompson  winnowed  out  the  chaff  from  the  heap,  and 
has  given  us  the  golden  grain  in  this  volume.  Many  old  news- 
paper favorites  will  be  recognized  in  this  collection,  — many  of 
those  song-waifs  which  have  been  drifting  up  and  down  the 
newspaper  world  for  years,  and  which  nobody  owns  but  every- 
body loves  We  are  glad  for  ourselves  that  some  one  has  been 
kind  and  tender-hearted  enough  to  take  in  these  fugitive  chil- 
dren of  the  Muses  and  give  them  a  safe  and  permanent  home. 
The  selection  has  been  made  with  rare  taste  and  discrimination, 
and  the  result  is  a  delightful  volume.  —  Observer,  New  York. 


Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

A.   C.   McCLURG   &   CO.,   Publishers, 

Cor.  Wabash  Ave.  and  Madison  St.,  Chicago. 


4  6  96      1  3 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


JUL  2  6  1983 

DEC-^3  1984- 
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